Message at Hand
by fanficReider
Summary: The BAU receives a case from the Milwaukee Police Dept; people are being killed in their homes and receive a single letter carved into each of their palms. Could it be a message from the UnSub, or are the letters picked at random? Gets Reid-centric. R/R?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Dr. Spencer Reid walked into the crowded bull pen and made his way towards his desk. He was glad that he did his case report the night before and not that morning; he was definitely not up for writing for what seemed like forever. He could feel the dark circles underneath his eyes, and could hear his brain practically begging him for sleep.

Reid sat down in his comfortable chair, and then pulled his messenger bag up onto his lap. He rifled through the bag and found what he was looking for: a book on Mayan prophecies. Last night he pulled and checked out the book off one of the shelves from a library near his apartment; he didn't even look to see what it was about, as long as it took his minds of things.

He opened up the book to the first page and began reading at his incredible speed. His finger running down the page, and the flipping from one page to the next became a blur. None of the information sunk into the genius's brain. He turned back to the first page and tried to read again.

Derek Morgan glanced over at Reid's desk. He noticed Reid's blank eyes. Something seemed off.

"Kid, you alright?" Derek asked; his thick eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Reid responded with a slight snap intertwined in his words as he looked up at Derek.

"Well, for starters, you don't have your usual sugar with coffee. It's not like you to not have your caffeine."

"I'm just really interested in this book; that's all," Reid lied, looking down at his book. If he were to tell Derek the real reason, he'd probably get treated like a baby again, and that was something Reid absolutely hated.

"Ah," Derek finished, knowing that the younger agent was lying, but he didn't want to pry. He leaned back in his chair and intertwined his fingers behind his head. So much for getting an answer. Penelope Garcia, wearing a vibrant green dress, blue high heels, and very intricate and colorful jewelry, came down into the bull pen, carrying manila files.

"We've got a case, my G-men," she said, handing a file to Derek and Reid. Both of the men stood up and followed her into the conference room on the next floor. Already at the table were Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and JJ. Derek and Reid took their seats while Garcia stood by the large flat screen. With the click of a button on her remote, Garcia pulled up pictures of 5 different people, all varying in age and gender. It looked like the only thing they had in common was their brown hair and brown eyes.

"Milwaukee, WI. 5 people in the past 2 days have been stabbed once in the head. On their palms are letters; one letter per palm," Garcia stated, and then clicked the remote again to bring up 10 pictures of palms.

"Do the letters spell anything? Or is it a name?" Emily asked.

"If the letters are scrambled up, then yes. Otherwise, no. It'll be impossible to decode what the message is, though, if it is indeed a scrambled message. We would have to wait until we were absolutely positive that the UnSub was done killing. Knowing his motives might also help with decoding the message," Reid explained as he scanned his eyes on the 10 letters: T, G, I, W, I, W, H, E, S, H. Emily simply nodded her head, and turned back to the screen.

"What did these people have in common, besides their hair and eye color?" Derek asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Garcia admitted, "I just got the case this morning from the Milwaukee Police Department. I will get into the gritty of their lives though; it's just going to take some time."

"Here's something," JJ started as she flipped through the evidence reports. "They were all killed between 8PM and 12AM, and everything in the house was turned off; lights, TVs, computers, you name it. I wonder what's up with that."

"Well, it's definitely part of his signature," Rossi stated, looking down on his file.

"But why does the UnSub do that?" Derek questioned.

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out. Wheels up in 30," Hotchner said, standing up from his seat. The rest of the team followed suit and single filed out of the room. Everyone went to grab their go-away bags, except for Reid. He streamlined with a quickened stride to the nearest bathroom. He stood alone before the wide mirror and row of five sinks. He studied his eyes, empty and tired. The circles that shadowed his eyes were darker than they usually were. Much darker.

His hair was ruffled and looked rather untidy. With his cold fingers, he quickly combed through his gentle curls so they didn't look as unkempt. He also noticed his tie wasn't tied tightly. The sweater vest over his wrinkled, white dress shirt also was on partially crooked. He straightened it out, and then closed his eyes in exhaustion.

The team is going to wonder, and even worry about him. He'll push them away; assure them nothing is wrong, like he's done so many times in the past. _I'll hold them off as long as I can,_ he thought to himself. _I have to fight my own battles_. _I'm tired of them treating me as if I'm a child._

He turned on the cold water and splashed it on his face, attempting to wake himself up. Nothing. Sighing, he wiped the droplets of water from his skin with a paper towel. He shoved his hands in his pockets, left the bathroom, headed to grab his go away bag, and returned to the team before they got too suspicious.

He was the last agent to get into the jet, which didn't surprise Spencer, but did surprise the rest of the team; he was almost always the first person on. Spencer ignored their looks as he boarded on the jet. The first thing Reid did before actually sitting down was grab a cup of coffee. He had forgotten to put sugar and cream into his mug, but neglected his tastes. He carefully seated himself in the chair farthest from anyone else. He received a concerning look from Hotch, but he simply shook it off.

The entire team fastened their seatbelts for takeoff. Reid took a sip of the dark, bitter coffee, and damn near regretted it. It had certainly woke him up, but never again did he want to drink something so horrid tasting. He contemplated getting up and putting several packets of sugar into his cup, but decided against it.

His eyes shut for a moment, and then opened them, ready to review the crime reports, and prepared for the inevitably tiring days ahead.

* * *

**AN: Hey guys! I know, I know, this wasn't all that exciting, but do remember this was only the first chapter! This is my first story on this website, well first fan fiction actually, so if it isn't a bother, there's that review button down below; it is your best friend, so go ahead and click on it! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll post the next chapter real soon :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Long AN at the end :)**

Spencer turned towards the others, ready to review what little information they had so far.

"Let's start with the Donnel family," Hotch began, giving everyone the signal to open their files.

"Family of three, single child, single income home," Emily stated out loud.

"The child, 13 year old Lexis looks like she was killed first. The parents must have heard her scream; they run into her room, only to have the mother stabbed next. The father puts up a fight, gets a couple of non-threatening cuts on his arms and one on his left cheek, and then is finished off," Derek explained, the gears in his head clearly working, trying to slide into the mind of the UnSub.

"Then the UnSub carries the family into the living room," Rossi continues.

"Are you sure he didn't drag them?" JJ asks.

"There was no blood indicating drag marks," Rossi explained. "So he gets them in the living room, poses them with their arms out to their sides, palms up, and carves the letters into their hands."

"Doug Donnel had T and G, Alyssa Donnel had I and W, and Lexis had another I and W carved onto her hands," Reid noted to seem more like himself. Everyone looked up at him. Reid simply lowered his head down to study the pictures. "Why did he give the mother and daughter the same letters, and on the same hands?" he muttered out loud to no one in particular.

"Maybe the UnSub saw the mother and daughter as the same person. They _do _have a striking resemblance," Hotch suggested.

"Eh, I'm not too sure about that, Hotch. This guy is doing everything for a reason; he poses them, and then to top things off he turns off all appliances and lights. Actually, from the police reports, it says that all the windows and doors were closed too; peculiar for June. The letters weren't an accident," Reid countered.

"So it _is_ a code then?" JJ asked the genius.

"Probably," Reid answered. He closed his mouth and then sat further back in his chair.

"Now onto the subject of, like Reid said, the appliances, lights, and windows and doors. Why?" Rossi said.

"It's said if you see a dark window in a dream, it indicates a loss to your perception or vitality, and a closed door signifies opportunities that are denied and not available to you or that you have missed out on," Reid informed.

"Thought you didn't believe in that dream analysis stuff, kid," Derek said with a grin.

"Just because I don't believe in something doesn't mean I can't research and know about the topic," Reid retorted with a slight snap. Derek put up his hands as if retreating, or to say "I give up." The grin was instantly wiped from his face, to say the least.

"Since light is a symbol of hope, power, and happiness, turning off all the lights and turning everything else off takes away hope and power from the family. Closing the doors and windows might also be a way of keeping the family blocked off from others," Emily said.

"I think that's a good explanation, and that we certainly can't rule that out as a possibility," Hotch supported.

"I have to agree with Emily on that. It seems like this guy is all up for power," Rossi said. "He always takes out the weaker link first; in the Donnel family it was Lexis; with the couple, the woman was killed first. We should move onto the couple next."

"Breanne Michelson and Tyler Brecker. They lived apart, but it seems like Tyler came to stay the night at Breanne's last night. Tyler must have went outside to grab his bag, he heard Breanne's scream before she was stabbed so he drops his bag and runs into the house to find her dead, then he's stabbed from behind.

"After that, the UnSub goes to work in carving the letters, turning everything off, and closing doors and windows. No evidence from the UnSub was left behind, only proving the fact that Spence stated; he does everything on purpose. We've got an organized killer on our hands," JJ supplied.

"That's for sure," Emily commented grimly. Garcia's face suddenly appeared on the laptop.

"Hello my darlings. I started digging into their lives, looking to see where paths crossed," she started as she pushed up her glasses further up her nose. Hotch turned the screen so everyone could get a clear look at the colorful tech analyst.

"So far, they don't have anywhere that they cross; no common workplaces, well besides Breanne Michelson and Tyler Brecker, no common banks; nothing. It seems like the only connecting factor is that they all lived within 5 miles of the police station."

"Which one?" Reid asked. "There are eight stations; seven district stations and one Narcotics Task Force," he stated.

"The District Six station," Garcia answered. Reid muttered inaudibly under his breath.

"Did any of the victims have a criminal record?" Morgan asked. Garcia speedily typed and then replied,

"Nope; they're clean as a whistle, my doves."

"Thanks baby girl," Derek replied.

"Always a pleasure, love," Garcia said with a smirk before the screen returned to the FBI's emblem. Everyone took the following silence as their individual thinking time. Reid was certainly thankful for it; finally being able to sort through his thoughts.

Reid turned his head to glance out the window, and he let his mind get lost in itself, and his vision wondered between the large puffs of clouds above and below the jet. The bright sun remained hidden behind the clouds, and didn't dare peek out from behind them.

Morgan studied the crime scene photos, and tried to fit himself into the situation as the UnSub, as he often did with cases. He attempted to imagine why the killer chose the letters he did, and why use a stab to the head to kill? The blade would be difficult to get out of the skull, so why even bother? Is that simply a challenge? Or is there a deeper meaning to it? _There always is, _he thought to himself.

* * *

**AN: Hey guys! I told you I'd post the next chapter soon! Anyway, yeah. I'm sorry that this was kinda short (and somewhat boring) but it's simply where I felt the chapter should end. I promise there will be more excitement in the next chapter; I do! So please look forward to it. I also want to inform you guys of my schedule. Next week, and every other week following it, I will most likely not have internet access :'( meaning I can't update. BUT! When I **_**do **_**have the internet, I'll update at least twice or three times a week. Let me know your feedback on that :) That's sorta my reason for posting two chapters in a day; to make it up to you guys for next week.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, story alerts, and favorites guys! The response I've received is beyond what I thought it'd be, seriously. At most I thought I'd get maybe one or two story alerts, and that's it. Instead, I've got at least ten of you so far, and I got two reviews not even half an hour after I posted the first chapter. I already love you guys :D Thanks again! (I'll see what I can do about putting up the next chapter tomorrow!)**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**It doesn't take a long time to write a review, and they put a smile on my face. So review when you've got the time! Now on to the story :D **

The team arrived at the District Six Police Department about an hour and a half later, around 2:00 in the afternoon. The temperature in Milwaukee was definitely warmer than in Quantico; it was at least 85⁰F at their current location. Upon entering the station, they were relieved to step into the cold, air-conditioned atmosphere.

A young, red haired detective arrived in the spacious lobby, and then promptly approached the team.

"Are you the FBI profilers?" he asked. His eyes were tired, making him look slightly older.

"Yes, we are," Hotch said. A look of slight ease washed over the detective's facial features

"We're glad that you came," the detective said, truly meaning it, as he quickly went around the group, shaking hands with everyone except for Reid, who, like anyone else that had ever asked him to shake hands, politely waved as his greeting.

"I'm SSA Hotchner, this is SSA Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid," Hotch introduced as he gestured to each member of the team.

"Well, I'm Detective Rimbach. If you follow me, I can take you to the room we set up for you guys," the detective informed as he turned around. The team followed closely behind the detective. "We've never gotten five murders within more than a month, so you can probably understand why this is such a bad situation for us, that, and the fact of what happened to those people.

"Last serial killer we had was the Northside Strangler; Walter Ellis back in 2009, and his crimes weren't as… gruesome as these. They were bad; no doubt about it, but not as bad as these five." The detective led them to a large open room, divided by a partial wall. On right side of the room were five crowded desks, covered with files and other papers. On the far wall, was a mounted TV screen, displaying a low volume news report. No one else was in the room. Natural light filled the area from the large, wide window.

On the left side of the room was a large, white, and cleared off table. Six chairs were seated next to the table; one per team member. Another wide window was on this side of the room, though the blinds were slightly closed, dimming the light ever so slightly. Along the partial wall stood a large, double sided white board, supplied with three dry-erase markers. On the opposite end of the room was a cork board attached to the wall, thumb tacks sticking out randomly from the board.

"If you need anything, just ask. I have to go inform the captain that you arrived," the detective informed. Hotch nodded his head in approval. The detective gave a small smile that left as soon as it came. Within seconds, he vanished from the room.

"Alright. Dave, you and Reid go down to the medical examiner and consult with him on the victims. Morgan and Prentiss, why don't you go down to the crime scenes, start with the Donnel home. JJ and I will stay here to set up and to consult with the captain," Hotch directed everyone.

"We'll keep you posted," Morgan said, holding up his cell phone as both he and Prentiss left. Next to leave were Rossi and Reid, neither of them saying a word. JJ began pinning up pictures of the victims onto the cork board.

"Something tells me that this is going to be a difficult case," JJ muttered grimly.

* * *

Morgan and Emily got into a federally-issued, black Denali and started onto the path to the Donnel residence. They made their way through the pack streets until they came upon a car accident, instantly stopping them in their tracks.

"Is it just me or is there something off with-"

"Reid? Yeah, I noticed too," Emily completed, glad that this stop gave them time to talk in private.

"I worry about that kid," Morgan grumbled.

"Yeah… Did you do anything to piss him off?" Emily asked, a grin teasing her lips.

"No! I called him 'pretty boy' yesterday, but that isn't something that sets him off. He still seemed kinda… off a couple of days ago. He won't open up and tell me what's wrong. He knows I'm here for him, so I don't…" Morgan trailed off. Traffic finally was able to move, slowly, but surely.

"Just don't try to agitate him anymore than he already is. That means no teasing," Emily warned. Morgan simply shook his head as he drove forward. The rest of the short car ride went quickly, and silently.

They pulled into the short driveway of the Donnel family. Their two story, tan house was kept in great condition. The house was at least 30 years old, yet it looked brand new. Shrubbery and flowers were sprinkled the front yard, giving a neat and a somewhat elegant look.

Morgan and Prentiss stepped out of the vehicle and nearly were pushed back in by the slowly inching temperature. The heat gave the two agents motivation to hurry into the home, in hopes that it would be cooler indoors.

They entered through the front door, which had a line of crime tape attached, and they made sure to close the door behind them. In the middle of the living room were three large blood pool, all at different heights.

"Doug, the father, was laid out here," Morgan said as he pointed to the section of red, soaked carpet closest to them.

"And then Alyssa was next to him, and at the end was Lexis," Emily gestured to the other two stains.

"From left to right then, I start carving the letters onto their palms, beginning with Doug and finishing with Lexis," Morgan said as he slipped into the UnSub's mind.

"Once that's done, you go through the house and make sure all windows and doors are closed, and turn off anything electrical. That would've given you a chance to take higher-priced possessions, but you don't take a single dime."

"Well yeah, money isn't my motivation for killing."

"Then what _is _your motivation?"

"Sending a message to authorities. If I wanted locals to find out, I'd have left the doors and windows wide open, would have left the lights on. That way a neighbor or passer-by would think something was going on. In their curiosity, they'd go into the house and find," Morgan waved his arms to imply he was talking about the room, "This. I might have even killed out in the open; outside of a home."

"What message are you trying to send?" Morgan stood and pondered the question, only to reply with,

"Not sure yet, I'm hoping Boy Genius is going to figure that out."

* * *

"Can I get a look at their palms?" Reid asked the ME, referring to the victims' hands.

"Of course," the greying ME said gruffly. He carefully went from metal bed to metal bed, pulling out their arms and resting them on top of the white sheets that covered the rest of their body. Reid bent his head and upper body lower to get a better view of the carvings.

"No signs of hesitation, though it looks like he took his time," Reid commented to no one in particular.

"What makes you say that?" Rossi asked. He too bent further down to get a better look.

"If he were doing this quickly, there would be a point of deeper pressure, and a tailed off portion, which would have less pressure applied at that part. However, these carvings all have the same amount of pressure throughout the entire letter. Also, look how neat the letters are." It was true. The letters looked as if they were typed from a computer.

"That's a lot of skill for his first time," Rossi said in disbelief at the care taken in carving the letters.

"His preciseness brings me closer to believing that this is a code, and he wants it solved."

"Can you crack the code?" Rossi asked as the two men straightened up.

"I hope so," Reid answered.

"Thank you for letting us have a look," Rossi thanked the ME.

"No problem," he replied. The two FBI agents left the morgue, and not an entire word was spoken on the way back to the police station.

* * *

It was about 6:00 when the entire team was back at the station in their designated area. They had begun and built up a basic profile of their UnSub so far.

"He's in his mid-twenties to mid-thirties. Someone in his past must have triggered our guy, and that someone had brown hair and brown eyes," Morgan said out loud. Suddenly, the ring of a cell phone broke out. Reid pulled his cell out of his pocket, briefly looked down, and then apologized.

"Sorry," He quickly sped out of the room, leaving the team in slight wonder for a couple of seconds, but they regained their composure and continued discussing the profile. A few minutes passed, and they were almost done reviewing what they knew.

"Once we figure out what he wants, we can deepen the profile," Emily concluded. Reid then stormed back in the room with an expression that was a cross of anger, sadness, and… guilt?

"Everything alright, Reid?" Hotch asked with concern.

"Yeah, I just need to take a couple of deep breaths. I'll be fine," he answered quickly. He allowed no one eye contact. After a couple moments of, the captain of District 7 went into the small bullpen with an angered and depressed face.

"Two more murders; one of them is our own," he informed with anger burned into his words. Hotch instantly got up and approached the captain.

"One of your guys was killed?"

"Girls. Detective Trina Heiland and her husband were murdered by the serial killer. Same MO. They have a two month old, but he still alive, although he does have the carvings on his hand." Soon Morgan and Rossi joined the two leaders.

"Why leave the baby alive?" Rossi questioned.

"Too young?" Morgan suggested. The captain shook his eyes.

"The baby has heterochromia; one blue eye and one hazel eye."

"If you need assistance, we can have our people go down to the crime scene," Morgan offered.

"If you don't mind, that'd be great. I was just there, but I don't think I can handle it. I know a couple of the others that are down there are having difficulties as well."

"Come on," Hotch gestured to the rest of the team. "We've got another crime scene."

**AN: Told it would be a bit more exciting! "A bit" are the key words here. Wonder what that phone call was about… Makes a person wonder, doesn't it?... Anyway, yeah. This is to make up for the possible lack of uploading this coming week :( So yup. Thanks for reading people!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**If you liked the chapter, review it! I love reading what you guys have to say!**

The team arrived at the scene of the crime in less than five minutes. A CSI unit was already onto taking pictures of evidence, and the bodies. Trevor Heiland was the body closest to the door. Detective Trina Heiland, still in her blue uniform, was laid out next to her husband on his right.

"The baby was right next to Trina, on her right side," one of the CSI's informed JJ, when the question of the baby's location was brought up.

"Now we have letters A, E, N, and another A," Reid noted to himself. Instantly, he began plugging in the letter combinations into his mind, begging his intelligence to give him some help with cracking the code. Nothing gave, however, and Reid was left utterly confused and disappointed in himself and his capabilities.

Meanwhile, Prentiss and Morgan were taken to where the husband was killed. They stood at the end of a narrow hallway with a detective, most likely from another district.

"He must have heard something, because he ran up to here," the detective gestured to the end of the hall, right in front of the three investigators' feet, "and was stabbed right above the center forehead."

"The UnSub must have turned around from one of these sides of the room," Morgan rapped his knuckles against the walls that faced the living room.

"UnSub?" the detective asked with confusion.

"It stands for 'Unknown Subject,'" Prentiss readily replied, having to explain the word many a times before. The detective nodded his bald head, and soon rubbed the creases in his forehead with his calloused fingertips.

"I really hope you catch this guy before he goes too far. The fact that he murdered someone in law enforcement really rubs me the wrong way," the detective explained tiredly. Prentiss nodded her head as her way of saying, "We'll certainly try."

* * *

**The Next Day. 7:03AM**

The ringtone of his cellphone woke Morgan out of his sleep.

"Hello?" he asked into the phone.

"There's been another murder," JJ answered grimly. This certainly shocked Morgan, and now he found himself wide awake.

"What?" he asked incredulously, "That doesn't make sense; this guy always kills at night, what made him change now?" He slipped on a t-shirt over his head with one arm as he got out of bed.

"There was a leak, the case was all over the morning news," JJ explained, rubbing her forehead. Morgan shook his head in disbelief. He swiped his credentials from the wooden nightstand that resided next to his table, and then sped for his hotel room's door.

"Same MO? Anything else different?"

"No, everything else is consistent. Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss know already. Can you get Reid? I have to go deal with the mob outside the victim's home. I'll have Penelope send you the address."

"Sure thing," Morgan said as he quickly made his way towards Reid's room.

"Thanks," JJ replied before the call ended. Morgan shut his phone closed and stood outside the hotel door. He rapped his thick muscles onto the wooden door.

"Reid," he called out. Almost instantly, Reid swung the door open, already dressed for the work day, and his messenger bag hung on his shoulder. He looked as if he hadn't even slept a wink. The circles under his eyes were slightly darker than the day before. "You're ready to leave already?"

"What can I say; I'm an early riser," Reid quickly replied.

"Reid, that may be true, but that can't be why you're up and dressed already. Tell me what's really going on. You can't seriously think no one's noticed your recent behavior. We're here for you man, don't forget it. Spill," Morgan prompted, glaring Reid in the eye. Reid looked down at his feet, closed his eyes for just a short moment, and then looked back up again at Morgan.

"I can't sleep lately, and it's not why you think. I still have headaches and nightmares, but that's not my problem this time. I'm just… worried."

"About?"

"My mother. The doctors say she's having more bad days than good ones. Yesterday she fell into one of her episodes, and knocked an RN unconscious in her fit. Her medicine is becoming less and less effective. She's being put into isolated confinement, and being kept under watch, which I know will only upset her more.

"She's been refusing to eat, and the only things that helps her calm down are her journals and my letters, but even that sometimes isn't enough. I'm worried for her sake. I didn't tell you guys because I knew you'd think I'm not capable of working at my best," Reid explained, his eyes becoming glassy and his voice cracking on the last sentence. "Can we just… keep this between us?" He then added in a whisper.

"Sure thing. No one would have thought different of you if you came to talk to us about your mom," Morgan explained, putting a firm hand on the younger man's shoulder. "We've got to go down to the newest victim's home." Morgan closed the door behind Reid, and the two agents began their walk down to the parking lot.

"But we were there yesterday, why do we need to go down there again?"

"No, we have a _new_ victim, just killed this morning."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would,"

"There was a leak about the case, and now it's all over the local news channels," Morgan interrupted. Morgan's cellphone sounded off, alerting him of newly sent information. "Alright, let's see what we have. 43 year old Myer Stanskowski. He was a psychology professor at the Marquette University. Looks like we can just walk to his house; it'd only take about five minutes." Reid nodded his head as the both of them walked on the sidewalk.

It was about two minutes before Reid piped up,

"She thinks I'm in danger."

"Who?"

"My mom. Whenever doctors asked her why she thought this, she'd scream, 'A mother knows!' over and over again until they put her under. It's the only way they can stop her fits now. I just wish I could figure out why the medicine isn't working anymore."

"How often did the medicate her? And for how long?" Morgan asked.

"They used to medicate her twice a day, when the medicine used to work. She's been on medication for 12 years, 3 months, and 11 days."

"There's your problem. She's probably so used to the medication that her body built a resistance to it." Reid looked at Morgan with disbelief.

"I should have known that. I just can't think straight," Reid said disappointedly while tapping his right temple with the tips of his cold fingers.

"You're deprived of rest. Of course you're not going to be you full, normal self. Since you're going to refuse to go back to the hotel, your next best bet is to get a large cup of coffee, well, you'll actually get a large cup of sugar with a little bit of coffee" Morgan said with a grin. Reid teasingly punched Morgan's shoulder. "Pretty boy's gone violent. Lord have mercy." This brought a smile to Reid's face, and instantly, it felt as if half the weight on his shoulders suddenly disappeared.

* * *

**AN: Yay! We finally know what was going on with Reid! Lolyncut was the closest to figuring out what was wrong, so I congratulate good person :D Next chapter is going to be amazingly exciting, at least towards the end of the chapter (Last 1/3rd or 1/4****th****?) Can't wait to get started on it! (And post it of course ^^') I'll also try to make it longer than usual chapters. Thanks for reading guys! I love you! If I ever meet you people in real life, we should get ice cream and just chat :D Wouldn't that be sweet?**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**This is my favorite chapter so far! Please review, because I love you :)**

* * *

**6:52PM**

"Thank you for your cooperation. We promise, we _will _catch this UnSub," Rossi said, finishing up the profile reading to the entire Milwaukee Police Force; officers, detectives, and captains from all districts. They were all jammed into the squad room of the District Six Station. It was tight, but they all received the profile, and that's all that mattered to them at this point. Someone murdered one of their own, and they certainly weren't going to let the killer get away.

Morgan sat at the table with Reid and Prentiss.

"You think reporters are going to give JJ a hard time?" Morgan asked.

"You know JJ," Prentiss started, "She's the queen of the crowds; she can handle these things better than anyone else." She glanced over to Reid, who occasionally flipped through papers, but mainly stared down at the grain of the table.

"You figure anything out Reid?" she asked. There was no response. "Reid?" she asked louder. It looked as if he hadn't even heard her.

"He must be thinking really hard," Morgan stated.

"I'd say so," Prentiss agreed. "Did Garcia find any potential suspects?"

"Too many," Morgan answered. "She found almost 200 potentials. We could go through them all, but it'd take forever, and we'd probably cut down a forest in the process."

"Is there any way we can narrow it down?"

"I'm not sure yet. I've had her narrow it down as much as we can so far, but there's too many for once."

"Hmm," Prentiss wondered. She quickly pulled out her cell phone and called Garcia.

"Super Information Highway. How can I be of service?"

"Garcia, I'm going to put you on speaker."

"Alrighty." With the press of a button, Garcia's voice filled the surrounding air.

"Since all of the victims were picked randomly, that would mean our UnSub is unassociated with the victims. Take all the suspects and get rid of any that had ties to the victim; co-workers, neighbors, etc," Prentiss explained.

"Make sure that the suspects had a family member in some sort of accident or homicide/injury within the past month or two," Morgan added.

"Hold on sugar plum, I can only do so much at a time. Okay… just hold on a couple of seconds," the sound of rapidly pressed keys flooded the air. "Ooh, you guys are good. It's still a lot but it's better than before; we're down to 48 suspects." Prentiss and Morgan shared a quick look.

"Fax them over," they both said in sync.

"I'm on it my darlings," Garcia replied before the line went dead. Prentiss snatched her phone off the table and exited the room, saying,

"I'm gonna go pick them up." Morgan tapped Reid's shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts.

"We're going to look at some suspects as soon as Prentiss gets back. I think you should take a break from the code for a little while; you've solely been working on it for the past 45 minutes."

"Alright. I'm still trying to figure it out. I can't seem to find a pattern yet. There's got to be something in there," Reid mumbled.

"Relax kid. You're going to have to give your attention to our 48 suspects."

"48? Didn't you guys narrow it down?"

"We did. Just be thankful you don't have to look at all 200 of them."

"Wow. We've rarely had that many suspects for a case."

"I know, but you do have to realize we're in the biggest city in Wisconsin."

"True. In District Six alone, there are 68,900 residents."

"And you just know this because..?"

"I read a lot," Reid answered with a slight grin. He was finally starting to feel like his normal self.

"So I've gathered," Morgan responded with a chuckle. Hotch and Rossi sat down at the opposite end of the table.

"Did someone crack a joke?" Hotch asked.

"I think Reid tried to," Morgan said in the most serious tone he could manage, though a smile teased his mouth.

"So what are we going to do now?" Rossi asked, getting back to the task at hand.

"Garcia sent over potential suspects, so we're going to go through those," Morgan replied.

"How many?" Hotch questioned.

"48 suspects," Reid replied almost immediately.

"Did you,"

"Yes, we narrowed it down, Hotch," Morgan interrupted and explained. Hotch simply nodded. JJ and Prentiss soon walked into the room, both of the women carry large stacks of paper. They approached the table and dumped their stacks.

"Let's have at it," Prentiss said, already able to feel her eyelids becoming somewhat heavier. Both she and JJ pulled out chairs and grabbed a couple of sheets for themselves and began looking them over, as did everyone else.

They all got an even eight potential suspects to look over. Reid was, like usual, the first of the team to get done reading the information.

"None of mine seem to fit," he commented as soon as he was done.

"The ones I've looked at so far don't seem to either," JJ mumbled.

"Maybe we're..," Reid paused to yawn, "Maybe we're missing something," he suggested.

"Well what are we missing?" Morgan asked curiously.

"Not sure," Reid replied before another yawn appeared.

"Looks like someone's tired," Emily teased before she yawned. "God, I hate that yawns are contagious," she muttered. This pulled a grin out of Hotch and JJ.

"Maybe you two should head over to the hotel and get some rest," Hotch offered the tired agents.

"No!" they both protested.

"Come on, we aren't any closer than we were half an hour ago," Morgan interjected.

"It's only..," Reid looked down at his watch, "8:03," he explained.

"Go, we've got it," JJ said with a smile. Prentiss sighed as she stood up.

"Alright. Come on Boy Genius," Prentiss put a hand on his shoulder. Reid looked away for a second, and then grabbed a sheet of paper that he had written what looked like scribbles, and put the sheet into his messenger bag. He stood up, and the two of them walked out of the station.

"Have you talked to someone about what's bothering you?" Prentiss asked with concern as they walked down a quiet street.

"Yeah, and I feel a bit better about it," Reid answered.

"Good. You know, I don't understand why you don't come to us about what's on your mind in the first place. You know it helps to talk to people about your problems."

"I'm not sure why I do it either. I suppose I'm just afraid of being seen as a weak 30 year old man."

"You're not weak, Reid. Don't ever even think that. You've gone through more horrors than most people can even imagine, and you're still here, still fighting. You're strong." Reid smiled and looked down at the cement to hide his heated face.

"Thanks," he said in a hushed tone. Prentiss nodded as they walked further away from the station.

"So… do you need any help with that code? You were working pretty hard on it back there."

"I think I can handle it. I just need to find a pattern," Reid said absently.

"Alright. Just don't stay up the entire night again; you seriously need to sleep," Prentiss warned.

"How'd you know that I was up all of last night?"

"I kind of had a gut feeling. _That_, and the fact that you just told me now." The two agents were now standing in front of Prentiss' room. "Not too late, alright?"

"I'll try," Reid replied with a smile.

"Night," Prentiss said tiredly as she entered her room, closing the door quietly behind her. Reid walked down to the end of the hallway where his room was located. He slid the key card into the black slot, and then slowly opened the door after a small green light indicated it was unlocked. His room was dark and air-conditioned to the point he was actually a bit chilled.

With one elongated finger, he flicked a light switch so the main section of the room was flooded with light. He took advantage of the complimentary coffee maker, and within minutes had a steaming, warm mug of coffee with an incredible amount of sugar mixed in.

He then sat down at the wooden table that was tucked into the far corner. He pulled out the paper with his messy hand writing and set it down on the surface in front of him.

_The UnSub does everything for a purpose, _Reid thought to himself. _They stab the victims, and then carve their hands. Next, they turn off all lights and appliances, and then close all the doors and windows. After that, the UnSub leaves, without leaving anything behind that they don't want found._

_All the victims are within five miles of the District Six station. What's the significance of that District station? Could that unit have dealt with the suspect's relative's case? Did they screw up? No… none of the suspects fit the description of the UnSub. Toss that idea out._

_If only we knew the UnSub's motive, besides obviously sending a message. What is that message? _Reid sighed as he looked down at his scrawl. He pulled out a notebook to start fresh. _Patterns, I need to look for patterns._ And so, he went to work. He searched for all sorts of patterns, and came up dry. For an hour, he muttered to himself as he tried to unscramble the letters. The only result was three pieces of notebook paper filled up with his handwriting.

It was soon after that "failure" that the light bulb in his brain glowed brighter than ever before. With a large smile, he quickly worked out his theory on paper, and finally figured out what the cryptic message was, even though the killer wasn't finished yet.

Instantly, he pulled out his cellphone and speed-dialed Hotch.

"Reid? What is it?" Hotch asked.

"I figured it out!" he exclaimed.

"Figured what out?"

"The code! Look, we knew that the UnSub does everything for a purpose, right?"

"Yes, so why does that,"

"I was wondering why the UnSub chose District Six, simply because there aren't as many residents in District Six as there are in some of the other districts. Then it hit me that the District was part of the code!"

"What are you getting at?"

"It's District _Six. _The first six letters are the first letters in the message; it's a six word sentence. I then started writing down the next six letters, but only not all of them fit." A quiet knock on the door registered in Reid's ears, though he ignored it. "So, I slid over some of the letters so actual words would come out of it." Another knock came, this time louder. Reid stood up with the cellphone tightly pressed to his ear.

"Does that mean that we've received all the letters we were supposed to?"

"No, there needs to be two more victims, but I know the entire sentence." Reid began opening the door. "It's "The Gen'," he managed to say before a Taser pierced his skin and brought him to unconsciousness.

"Reid?" Hotch asked into the phone, concerned about the sudden silence. Nothing. "Reid!" he yelled. The only response was silence, and the click of a dead line.

* * *

**AN: Dun dun dun! What do you think shall happen? I know a few of my **_**Reiders**_** are going to figure it out.(sorry, it's just that the pun was right there, and I had to use it) Not going to mention any names- but uh… yeah. You guys would make great profilers :D You're always a step ahead. Thanks to everyone for reading (no, I'm not going to use the same pun twice) and for setting up story alerts, author alerts, and adding this to your favorites. You're all seriously awesome! I'll try to update as soon as I can, because I finally have a good internet connection. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll be back with another one… real soon. **

**(I just realized this chapter is almost twice as long as the other ones! Sweet! Okay, now I'm done. Bye.)**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Hotch instantly dialed Prentiss, to tell her what happened and to warn her to check on Reid. The phone rang six times before the call was forwarded to voicemail. He left a concerned message and hung up.

"Hotch, what's going on?" Morgan asked, his eyebrows knitted.

"I'm not sure yet. We and a tactical team need to get over to the hotel," he answered sternly. He turned around to leave.

"What aren't you telling us?" Morgan asked loudly. Hotch slowly turned around and looked Morgan in the eye.

"Something may have happened to Prentiss and Reid."

"What?" JJ exclaimed. She and Rossi stood up from the table.

"Like I said, we need to get over there," Hotch warned. The entire team ran out of the station, their hands resting on their side arms. Morgan, while running to the hotel, ordered a tactical team to the hotel. Quicker than they thought, the profilers made it within minutes, and another five minutes later, the tactical team arrived.

Both teams cautiously and quietly made their way up to the third floor. Half of each team split up; half to check Prentiss' room and the other half to check Reid's. Hotch and JJ went with half of the tactical team to investigate Reid's room, while Rossi and Morgan went to check on Prentiss.

Hotch used his key card to open Reid's door, and with that, the three armed men, Hotch, and JJ raided the lightless room.

"Clear!" One of the armed men shouted. The three men nodded their heads towards the FBI agents as they left the room. JJ bent down and carefully picked up something.

"Spence's phone," she said, her eyes shut. Hotch flicked the light switch to its on position. He instantly noticed the scattered papers on the table, and Reid's mug of now cold coffee. He strode over to the papers, with JJ trailing close behind.

Hotch also found Reid's silver watch placed next to his mug of overly-sugared coffee. His jaw clenched, he picked up a sheet, only to find Reid's messy handwriting spread out all across it. No words or sentences popped out.

"Oh god," JJ said, her eyes widened. In her hand was a spiral bound notebook. She turned the page towards Hotch as she read aloud, "'The Genius Is What I Want.'"

* * *

**Meanwhile with Rossi and Morgan.**

They had been in the room for only a minute. They had found an unconscious Prentiss lying in the middle of the room, her hands at her sides, and bloody letters on her palms. Next to her was a six inch knife sticking out of the floor. If not for the absence of a pool of blood coming from her head, Morgan would have thought she was killed.

He was now kneeling next to her, eternally damning the UnSub. Her eyes fluttered and she groaned, trying to bring a hand to the back of her hand.

"Slow down, take it easy," Morgan warned as he grabbed her wrist and brought it slowly back down to her side.

"The UnSub…The UnSub was waiting in here for me. I went to grab my toothbrush out of my bag, but the UnSub hit me on the back of the head with something, I don't remember anything else after that," Prentiss said worriedly.

"It's alright, Prentiss. Right now, you just need to relax. Medics were called, we're going to get those hands of yours fixed up."

"Why… why didn't the UnSub kill me?" She looked up at Morgan with questioning eyes. Morgan sighed.

"I'm not quite sure yet. Rossi's going over to Hotch and JJ to see what happened with Reid. We'll-"

"What do you mean, 'with Reid?' Is he in danger? Was he killed?" she asked, her voice slightly wavering.

"Look, I don't know yet," he answered with a sigh, "I pray he's alright." Soon a medic walked into the room, a simple medical kit in his right, gloved hand. "I'm gonna help you sit up, alright?" Prentiss nodded in response. Morgan put an arm underneath her back and raised her upper body up, so she was in an upright position.

"Let me have a look at your hands," the medic said calmly. Prentiss obliged, and held up her hands in the air, palms facing the ceiling. The medic grabbed her wrists carefully, and looked over the cuts. "We're going to need to close these cuts off, they're gaping pretty badly," he commented.

"Y-you mean like stitches?" Prentiss stuttered in shock.

"Well yes, either that, skin super glue, or you could just make sure it stays wrapped up, although I highly disapprove of it. If we don't seal these cuts of, you'll live with some pretty nasty scars."

"Alright," Prentiss sighed after a moment. The medic than completed a simple check over of Prentiss, noticing a nasty head wound from the knife.

"There's a chance you may have a concussion, so we'll just take you in to make sure everything's alright." Another sigh escaped Prentiss' lips. Rossi then entered the room, and his expression giving off an air of annoyance, frustration, and despair.

"Reid's missing. The UnSub must have taken him," he stated.

"What?" Morgan exclaimed.

"He was the UnSub's target the whole time," Rossi said angrily, "The code spelled out a sentence: 'The Genius Is What I Want.'" Morgan clenched his fingers into a tight fist as he looked away, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Prentiss simply looked up at Rossi, her mouth slightly gaping.

"Then we need to get Garcia to look at security tapes, find out where the UnSub is taking him!" Prentiss rapidly explained as she stood up.

"She's already on it," Rossi assured. Morgan exhaled as he gradually stood up.

"Good. Now, let's get your hands fixed up," he concluded.

"What? No! Reid's more important. I can live with the scars; just wrap me up. We need to _find _him," she argued.

"Emily, we're all concerned and on edge, but you need to get those cuts closed up, they looked real-"

"I'm fine! Who knows how Reid is? Just have them wrapped up," she demanded. Hotch approached her, with JJ close behind.

"Prentiss, as much as you're worried, you _need _to get yourself taken care of. We'll keep you updated with what we can figure out, alright?" Hotch said. She looked at him with faintly angry eyes, but then shut them closed and gave in with a nod.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for such a short chapter! Please don't kill me! I just end chapters where I naturally feel they need to end, so the fact that I ended it here is why it's so short. If I went on, the chapter would feel like it's unnecessarily dragging on, and I don't want you people to read through that. Again, sorry for the shortness and the lack of any action. At least we know the answer to the code now :) Am I the only one that thinks Reid is a bad luck magnet? Just saying… **

**Thanks for reading! I'll try updating soon :) **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The first thing Reid felt as he awoke was the slight sting in his chest, from the Taser wound, he assumed. His eyes opened, revealing to him his surroundings, which looked like a nearly empty basement. His right wrist was cuffed to an icy cold support pole, and it sent chills up his arm. The area was lit with a few bare light bulbs attached to the ceiling. Around the edges of the space were brown, cardboard boxes, some marked with things like, "Baby Clothing" or "Blankets." It looked like there were two rectangular windows, but were covered up with blankets.

Instinctively, Reid tried to reach for his gun, but found his holster empty. He also realized his credentials were absent, and his silver watch was missing as well. He regretted not getting to the point with Hotch, and rambling on instead. It was definitely a bad habit of his that he needed to cut back on, that much he was sure of. He also wished the profile would have been more accurate.

"I knew knowing the motive would have helped the profile," he muttered under his breath.

"I take it you're finally up," a cold voice said. Reid's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Who's there?" he asked, knowing what a stupid question it was to ask. A subtle chuckle broke through the air.

"Oh, come _on_. Don't tell me you don't recognize my voice," the voice snapped, venom laced into the words. Reid dug into his memories for a familiar voice but came out empty handed. He was never good with auditory memory. "Here, let's try this, 'You're so lucky, Spencer, to have such high intelligence. You'll be on top of the world,'" the voice mocked in a sweet tone. Reid couldn't swallow as multiple memories flooded back to him.

"I remember," he answered truthfully and barely audibly.

"What's that? I'm afraid you're going to have to speak up." Reid could tell she was enjoying this.

"I remember you," he replied loudly, and a quick laugh resulted from the voice. A slow clap started, and the UnSub walked out to stand in front of Reid, a wide grin on her face.

"Bravo. Bravo!" she said, showing off her teeth. "The _genius, _Dr. Spencer Reid remembers little, insignificant me," she congratulated, putting emphasis on Reid's name. She walked gradually closer to him, ending up only four feet away from him. He sat on the cold floor, dumbstruck, and frightened to a certain extent.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you, that is, if you do what you should, and what is expected of you," she explained noticing his expression. She kneeled down next to him and stroked her hand on his cheek. He cringed, though she didn't care. "I want to keep you around for a while." He shut his eyes, not wanting to look into her's.

"Why a-are you doing th-this?" he stuttered, trying to turn his head away from her. She frowned and stood up. She folded her arms across her chest as she glared down at him. He opened his eyes and looked up to see anger flare in her grey eyes.

"I don't know," she said sarcastically, her eyes rolling dramatically, "You're the profiler; _you_ tell _me_," she demanded. He tried to develop a reason in his mind, how desperately he did, but his brain didn't want to cooperate with him. Scratch that, it _couldn't._

"I can't," he said in a whisper. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, you _can't_? Is there finally something the amazing Dr. Reid can't do? You've built hundreds of profiles, why can't you build one of me? Is it because your team did most of the work? Were you just there to give off statistics and other relevant facts?" she taunted harshly, hoping to hit a nerve.

"No, it's just that-"

"'It's just' what?" she shouted, clearly losing her patience. Reid winced, as if being hit by his abductor.

"I can't think straight. I helped make profiles; I did," he stated, worry mixed into his tone.

"What's keeping you from thinking straight then? Are you frightened by me? Shocked that you'd see me again? I'm sure you were glad to get rid of me when you left for D.C., weren't you?" Reid sat in silence, not daring to utter a single word or sound. His eyes flitted back and forth, as if reading an invisible paper. The UnSub groaned in frustration, and then kicked Reid's left side, right between a couple of his ribs. He winced at the abruptness of the attack, and at the surprising force the UnSub was able to put behind her kick. "Spencer, didn't you learn it's impolite to not answer a question when being asked?"

"Yes," he uttered through gritted teeth.

"Then I advise you to answer, and answer honestly. Lying is also very impolite," she advised in an overly sweetened voice. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it for a second, and then tried again, this time succeeding.

"I… I didn't even really think about how I'd feel about leaving. At the time, I told myself that I'd call or write a letter from time to time, but I got so caught up in work… I didn't ever talk to you again," he admitted. She, however, was unconvinced.

"Work obviously isn't a problem for you sending letters every day to your poor, schizophrenic mother; Diana Reid," she taunted with a grin. "I heard she's not doing well as of recent." Reid's eyes couldn't possibly get wider than they were right now. "It's very easy to find the information you want nowadays, with technology and all." She grinned and leaned down so her face was inches away from his. "I know everything about you, Spencer. More than you think." Her breath smelled like mint; now it'd be Reid's least favorite scent. She straightened out and turned on the heels of her tennis shoes.

"Get some rest Spencer. We have some catching up to do in the morning," she said. She disappeared from sight, but Reid could hear her as she walked up a set of stairs, and the lights left with her. After she left, Reid couldn't hear anything but his own heart, beating rapidly inside his chest.

Spencer was now in complete darkness, and he was terrified. He knew this woman, and all this time, he never knew what she was capable of. At Cal. Tech., she always came off as a genuinely nice person. Of course that sounded like a cliché, but it was true. Neighbors say that often when they find out that their next door neighbor killed multiple people. _They would have never suspected, and now I'm one of those naïve fools,_ he thought miserably.

This cold, venomous woman was someone Reid hadn't experienced before, and it terrified him that he didn't know what she had planned, or what she could do if he went against her in any way. He wished he could sleep, close his eyes and be kept safe in his own mind, or better yet, he wished he would wake back up in the hotel at the table, and laugh off this nightmare. His eyes stung, knowing that this was a nightmare, but it was a very real one. Unfortunately, Reid couldn't wake up from reality.

* * *

**There you go! Chapter Seven :D I'm sorry for such short chapters guys! But, if you need an explanation, refer back to last chapter's AN. Thanks for reading like always! I will try my hardest to make the next chapter more exciting, at least in terms of new developments and new information.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"Garcia, did you find anything yet?" Hotch asked the tech analyst. The team, minus Prentiss and Reid, sat at the table back in the police station, all urgently awaiting any new information they could get to bring back their youngest member.

"I was just about to call you about that sir. I found the UnSub carrying Spencer out of the hotel through a back entrance. The UnSub carried him to a car… he was then put in a trunk of a car, and then they drove off. I wasn't able to get a plate or a full face, but I can tell you the UnSub is a woman," she explained. She sounded like she had been crying, and the team wasn't surprised. Garcia was always sensitive to the horrors of the world.

"And you know this because?" Hotch questioned.

"For one, she's a little short to be your average guy, I'd say she's about 5'6", and two, I was able to see her mouth; turns out she likes red lipstick," she replied.

"What type of car is she driving?" Morgan asked tensely.

"It looks like a new, red Pontiac."

"Is that all you could find?" JJ asked, hoping there was more to be heard.

"I'm sorry, that's all I've got right now… Spencer's going to be alright. You guys are going to work your profiling wonders a-and bring him back home," Garcia tried to assure the team, though she knew deep down she was trying to assure herself even more.

"We will Penelope," Morgan responded.

"We need to remake the profile; we've certainly gotten things wrong. We thought the trigger might have been a family accident or a person close to the UnSub being killed. I think something _Reid_ did was the stressor," Rossi stated.

"What could have possibly done to trigger this woman?" Morgan asked angrily, clearly being protective of his close friend.

"He might have won some sort of award, or earned an achievement," Rossi explained, trying to keep his temper at a low level. Without anyone having to tell her, Garcia started typing on her center computer, searching for something, anything Reid did within the past month.

"I got something!" she exclaimed. "It looks like last week he finished a BS (**Bachelor of Science**); it was for Physics," she said with a slight chuckle. "I'm sure he did it pretty easily," she commented absently, her eyes stinging again at the memory of Reid.

"Anything else?" Morgan asked. Garcia snapped out of her thoughts and typed on her keyboard. A minute or so later she replied,

"Sorry, that's all I've got. Is there something else I can do for you?"

"I don't think so. We'll give a call if we think of something," JJ said.

"Alright," Garcia said sadly, hanging up soon afterwards.

"Jealousy. That's what fueling the UnSub. Reid achieved more than she could, and she hates him for it," Hotch realized after a moment.

"That's why the profile was off, and why none of the suspects fit," Morgan concluded. "If she knows Reid, it's probable that they went to college together; Reid doesn't have much of a social life."

"Good, what else?" Hotch asked.

"Let's see, she must be fit enough to be able to carry a grown man," JJ suggested.

"Reid may be skinny, but that's still a lot of weight for one person, so that's right," Rossi agreed.

"Let's have Garcia run some searches," Hotch said as he pulled out his cell phone. Suddenly an alarming tone filled the air. "Looks like she has something," he muttered as he pressed talk. "Yes Garcia?"

"I was able to find her come into the building through the front entrance, and I was able to get a clear face to run through any and all databases," she rapidly said. "She also went into another room before Emily's, a room on the first floor. I'm not sure if that's her room or if…if it's another victim's."

"What's the room number?" Hotch set the phone to speaker, so now everyone was now able to hear.

"Uh… 103," Garcia stated. Hotch made a mental note to have police officers check the room.

"Penelope, we need you to do something for us while that face is running through recognition," Morgan said.

"Anything," she said truthfully.

"Can you pull up records of students that went to college with Reid?"

"Which college? I'm pretty sure he went to more than one."

"All of them."

"That'll just take a second… alright, next?"

"Narrow it down to women that were getting any of the degrees that Reid has; she's jealous of his accomplishments, so it'd make sense that she'd be getting one of the degrees he has. She's also very healthy; no physical disease or disability."

"'Kay hold on for a moment," she said as she typed away. A beeping soon came through the phone line. "Wait. We've got a name for you from the facial recognition. Our guy, well, _girl, _is 31 year old Kristen Ravera, from Moapa Town, Nevada. Let's see, she was originally from… Milwaukee, but she moved to California to earn her PhD in Chemistry back in 1999. That being said, she completed her degree in 2005 and then earned a BA in psychology in 2009. After that, she moved to her current residence in Moapa Town in Nevada."

"Garcia, fax over all of her information; everything you can find," Hotch ordered.

"Yes sir," she responded. The call then ended, leaving the team in silence.

"I'll call Emily and tell her what we know," JJ said with a nod. She walked out of the room as she dialed on her cell.

"This seems too easy," Rossi commented after a minute.

"How so?" Morgan asked.

"The fact we were able to identify her so quickly. She knows about us and our abilities. She's smart enough to keep herself unknown, yet it's like she wants us to know."

"It's like she's taunting us; 'you know who I am, but can you find me?'" Hotch added in agreement. "It'll be tough to find her; she's not going to be hiding anywhere we'd expect her to." Morgan's stomach uncomfortably churned.

"Then how _do _we find this woman?" Morgan asked, losing his calm ever so slightly. Hotch sighed with disappointment.

"I can't help but feel that we need Reid to help us with that," he answered regretfully.

"Let's not let him down. We're the best profilers out there; we'll find him," Rossi encouraged. He was right; if anyone could find Reid; it was the team, the family, which he belonged with.

* * *

**I seriously have to learn to make my chapters longer; this is freaking ridiculous. I feel so ashamed TT^TT Please don't kill me for such a short chapter! At least I gave you a bunch of info, so… yeah… I have a feeling I shouldn't have let out all that info already, but I felt like I did the right thing at the same time. So confusing… Just another obstacle that faces the common author… Thanks for reading none the less! I really appreciate it!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The team stood outside Hotel Room 103, guns raised and aimed. This was the room that the UnSub, aka Kristen Ravera, stayed in for the past three days, the team found out soon after they had discovered her identity.

Morgan looked to Hotch for a signal. He gave a nod. Morgan inhaled through his nose, and then used a key card given to the team by the manager to unlock the door. He was the first one in the room. The rest of the team soon followed. It didn't take long for them to clear the room. Morgan looked around the room and tried looking for something, _anything_ that would help find Reid.

"Morgan!" Hotch called from across the room. Morgan strode over quickly.

"What is it?" he asked. Hotch simply pointed to the ground. Bloody footprints were on the carpet in front of the door that served as an entrance to the adjoining room. Morgan sighed in frustration. He motioned for Hotch to move back. Hotch stepped back, and with his eyes, he gave the OK. Morgan lifted his leg and kicked his foot against the door, breaking it open and leaving the door to hang on one of its hinges instead of its original two.

Morgan, Hotch, and soon following, Rossi, entered the room, only to be greeted by a dead man on the floor. All the lights were off in the room, but the glow of the adjoined room gave off enough light for the three agents to see. There was a stab wound to the temple; an easy kill. His palms also had letters, but they didn't really matter anymore; the entire team already knew what the message was. Rossi walked over to the other side of the room and turned on the lights.

Hotch went into the UnSub's room, and let JJ know to call the CSI team from upstairs to have them come down to this room and take evidence. Meanwhile, Morgan looked around, similar to how he had in the other room. He glanced over to the coffee maker and noticed a rolled up piece of paper, squeezed between the machine and the wall.

His hope raised a bit as he quickly paced to the counter that the coffee maker rested on. As if the paper would break, he gingerly pulled the paper from between the machine and wall. He then rolled it out, eager to read what was written on the page.

"Rossi," he called over. He wanted him to see the letter too. The words were written in loopy, feminine handwriting. It was perfectly legible, despite its long, elegant loops. The handwriting was slightly slanted to the left, indicating the writer of the letter is right handed. Rossi looked over Morgan's broad shoulder as they both read what was written.

_Bravo, bravo agents! I expected that you'd figure things out in due time. That being said, you know who I am, and most likely my motives behind this wonderful sequence of events. No matter what you think, you will not see Spencer Reid alive again. I don't want to kill him, but if I feel the need to, if he goes against me, I will __not __hesitate in bring him down. I do hope he realizes this; after all, his life depends on it. _

_I believe I'm just rambling now, aren't I? I'm sure you're all used to it though being with the annoying "genius" of yours day in and day out. I think I shall say good bye, but first a tip for you all: stop looking. You'll only be wasting your time._

_~Kristen Ravera_

By the end of the letter, Morgan's free hand was in a tight fist, his short fingernails cutting into his palm, leaving dark crescents in his skin.

"Like hell we're gonna stop looking," Morgan muttered angrily through gritted teeth.

"She certainly seems confident," Rossi commented.

"A little _too_ confident, if you ask me, Rossi. She's taunting us: giving off her identity, leaving this note. I swear to God," he said, trying to control his temper, but clearly losing his cool. Hotch and JJ came into the room, noticing the tenseness in the air.

"What'd you find?" Hotch asked.

"A letter from Kristen. More taunting," Morgan answered angrily. He handed the letter to Hotch and then walked to the other side of the room, eventually entering the other room. JJ bit her lip as she soon went to follow him.

"Derek? Derek, you alright?" she asked, finding him sitting against the wall out in the wallpapered hallway. His lowered head didn't even move as she spoke. She sat down next to him, her knees brought up to her chest.

"I'm not alright, JJ. I hate this; not being able to find him, and it seriously pisses me off when UnSub's taunt us, especially like this… I don't know how we're going to find him this time," he admitted furiously.

"Derek, we _will _find him. He's going to be alright," JJ said as she put a delicate hand on Derek's knee as an act of assurance. He sighed in frustration before he started.

"JJ, we don't even know where to look. She's smart, so she's not going to be anywhere we'd think. Where is she then? Where's she keeping him?" His eyes started getting glassy, a rarity for the tough FBI agent.

"We profile her, and we figure it out. We'll bring Spence home," she said, her voice breaking on his name. She bit her bottom lip again as Derek looked at her.

"You're right. This is exactly what she wants. We need be strong, and we need to catch this woman, for Reid's sake," he said as he stood up, helping JJ straighten up as well. She nodded her head in agreement, even though deep inside, her stomach churned, telling her differently. For Spencer, his family had to be strong, and could never give up on finding him.

* * *

**Sorry for a crappy chapter, I beg for forgiveness! I caught a case of writer's block in the middle of writing this chapter, so I had to pull off a miracle to get this chapter done. Thanks for reading, favoriting, and reviewing!**

**(This was originally Chapter Ten, but decided it'd make more sense if I switched this chapter and the original Chapter Nine so that everything would be in chronological order ^^' Sorry for any confusion!)**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Spencer sat in the darkness for what seemed like decades. He couldn't focus on one single thought; there were too many ideas swimming in his mind. He hated being in the dark; absolutely hated it. The dark was his biggest fear, due to the inherent absence of light. Every night, even up to recent times, he always went to bed with a dim lamp in the far side of his room, to keep some of the darkness at bay.

There wasn't a single sound in the basement that he sat in; no whir of an air conditioning system, or even a single footstep coming from above. Spencer dreaded the absolute silence of his surroundings. He wished there was a steady drip of water coming from a leaky pipe, something, anything to fill his ears. He wished he could be back in his apartment, in his comfortable bed, knowing that he was safe, with his family at his side.

He felt terribly alone, more so than he ever had. At least when he was abducted back in Georgia, he had Tobias there. When he'd been infected with a horrifying anthrax sprain, Morgan was at his side. So many times he needed other's help, and they were always there to support him. But now, he felt utterly alone. Even though the team was the best group of profilers, and they could solve any case given to them, he felt this time was different.

* * *

Spencer was unsure how long it was before he heard something. Footsteps. He could hear the floorboards above creaking under her weight. The creaking stopped for a moment, and then started again. The bare light bulb above flashed on, temporarily blinding Spencer. His eyes were squinted tightly from the sudden brightness.

The footsteps soon started down the stairs.

"Rise and shine, Spencer," the overly sweet voice said with a sing-song tone. Soon she appeared with a water bottle and an apple in her hands. She wore a white t-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants, and her golden hair was neatly up in a ponytail, like she often wore it when Spencer knew her.

"Here," she said, handing the water bottle to Spencer. Hesitance washed over him. "Tsk," she scoffed, "You _really _think I'd kidnap you, just to kill you with poison? _Please,_ I could have done that at that coffee shop that always go to, you know? The one that's three blocks from your apartment?" He still didn't reach for the bottle. She groaned as she roughly unscrewed the cap, and then she drank a mouthful from the bottle.

"See? Not dead. Drink," she said, pushing the bottle towards him. He looked up at her tanned face, and then grabbed the bottle with a shaky hand. She grinned, and then sat down cross-legged in front of him. Spencer was secretly grateful for the water; his throat had been quite dry. Once about half the bottle was emptied, he set it down at his side. "You sleep well?" she asked.

"I-I didn't sleep," Spencer answered after a moment, considering lying to her. She frowned and gritted her teeth.

"I told you to get sleep! You're supposed to listen to me! I am in control of your life! I decide if you live or die. Remember what I told you yesterday? 'I'm not going to hurt you, that is, if you do what you should, and what is expected of you,'" she recited. "This just might deserve punishment."

"I tried to sleep! I did!" he cried out, "I just h-had so many thoughts r-running through my head... I-I couldn't fall asleep!" She sighed in frustration. She reached into her pocket, and scooted herself closer to Spencer's cuffed hand.

"This is a lesson that you _obviously_ need to learn; follow orders," she snapped coldly. She pulled out a pocket knife and unfolded the largest blade she had. Spencer's eyes widened, knowing exactly what she had planned.

"No! P-please don't do this; I'll learn!" he pleaded desperately. He closed his hand into a fist to prevent her from carving his palm. "I promise I'll listen for now on, just don't do this, please!" All she did was chuckle as she tried to pry his hand open.

"A lot of people say pain is the best teacher; I agree with that," she stated. She managed to pull his fingers away from his palm. She then held them with a firm grip. Spencer could instantly feel the blood circulation being cut off. She raised the blade, let it hover over his palm, and then pressed it harshly into his skin. He let out a cry of pain. He tried to pull away, but found it impossible. She continued cutting into his hand, certainly taking her time, and eventually forming a perfect "R".

She took the blade of the knife and wiped it down on Spencer's white shirt sleeve. His arm was shaking. "See why you listen to me? For being a genius, you're pretty stupid." Spencer felt weak, sore, and helpless. His hand felt as if it were on fire. He could feel his sticky blood oozing out of his hand, yet he couldn't bring himself to look down at it.

"I _was _going to catch up with you on things, after all, it's been _nine _years, but you don't look up to it," she taunted with a smirk. She tapped her chin with the tips of her fingers. "Hmm, I could wrap up that hand of yours so you don't lose as much blood. Then I'd be doing you a favor. Now why would _I _want to do _that_?" she asked out loud, as if talking to herself.

"What do you want from me, Kristen?" he asked, almost instantly regretting it. Her confident face contorted to one of anger.

"What do _I _want from _you?_ I want your happiness, your spirit and hope! I want to _break you! _Slowly but surely. I know just how to do it too, Spencer. I'm a person that knows what buttons a person has, which ones to press, and which ones will hurt them the most. I have your buttons memorized.

"I don't want to kill you, no; I _certainly_ don't want to do that; it'd be too easy! I want to _ruin_ you, so that when and _if_, your _precious_ 'team' ever find you, there won't be anything left to save. You'll be the hollow shell of the once _amazing, fantastic, brilliant_ Dr. Spencer Reid!" she screamed, venom mixed with Spencer's name. She stormed back up the stairs, shut the lights off, and slammed a door. His own beating heart was the only thing the registered in his ears.

Spencer could scarcely breathe. If this was only the beginning of her "punishment" for whatever he did to her all those years ago, he didn't want to know what the end would be like. _If _there would be an end. He thought of everyone on the team, his good moments with them, and then began to weep, letting the tears leak from his eyes and short sobs escape his mouth. The chance of him being found suddenly seemed bleaker and almost impossible now.

* * *

**I feel so evil for making Spencer go through that. That woman is seriously messed up. **_**I **_**for one don't want to be alone in a room with her, you know… if I pissed her off anyway… I also feel psycho because 1.) I was able to write this chapter easily, and 2.) I actually/semi enjoyed writing it. O^O'**

**Um, thanks for reading, like always! I'm glad that people actually like it :D Unfortunately, I'm going to start only loading chapters on weekdays, since I know people get busy on like Saturday and Sunday, plus that gives me recovery time ^^' Thanks for the comments, favorites, alerts, and what not. It always cheers me up to hear what you guys think :) Thanks for everything guys!**

**(This was originally Chapter Nine, but switched it with the original Chapter Ten so that everything would be in chronological order. Sorry for any confusion this switch may have caused ^^')**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Kristen sat in the living room of the small house. Her body was sprawled across the cream colored couch, her left arm on her torso while her right arm supported her head. Everything was working out the way it was supposed to. She knew Spencer would be ignorant at first, and she was right. Secretly, she was glad that he was.

_It's alright though, _she thought, _I'll teach him things the hard way. _She grinned at the things she had in mind. For nine years she dreamed off this. Nine years she had this plan, and the only thing that stopped her from putting her plan into action was timing. She had been hoping he would die on the job, like when he'd been kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, the man with multiple personalities. She personally thought he'd have passed when he contracted that sprain of anthrax back in '08, but of course, being that self-centered man he was, he _had_ to stay and find the cure.

She decided she had enough waiting, so she took matters into her own hands. Since the job wasn't going to ruin him, although it did affect him with headaches that doctors deemed to be psychosomatic, she figured that she'd ruin him herself, finally.

Everything seemed better now. For once in her life, she finally felt in control of something. Who could have guessed she'd be in control of something as important as another human being's life? She imagined that her father would be proud of her, and she was excited about that. Ever since she could remember, even after he killed her mother and younger brother, she looked up to him in admiration. He was her role model. He never let things that bothered him get away without punishment.

The best example of this was when he killed Kristen's mother. Her mother had been having an affair, and he discovered this when he came home early from work and found her and her "secret" lover together in the master bedroom. He beat the man to death, and then strangled his wife, so flooded with rage, he even proceed to killing his eleven year old son with a kitchen knife, stabbing him repeatedly. Police didn't find out about the murders until the next day, when teachers noticed that the boy hadn't come to school and no one from the household answered their phones.

That happened back in 2000, when she was still in Cal. Tech. When people asked her how she felt after the murder of most of her family, one of the few people being Spencer Reid, she lied, pulled out fake tears and said she felt horrid.

"_I just can't believe he did that! It's so terrible; it's so hard to bear!"_ she cried to him. Spencer, and all of the others, ate it up, and in return gave her sympathy. On the inside, however, was the truth, and that was that she was proud of her dad's deed. Her mother was a whore in her eyes, and she never felt a connection with her brother; he was a coward, and he complained and cried way too much. To her, their deaths were something to be celebrated. Of course, she'd never tell anyone these feelings.

She sat up while her eyes grazed to the clock that was hung on the opposite side of the room. Her eyes widened when she realized it was 11 o'clock (**in the morning btw**).

_Keep cool, keep cool. We can still get out of here in time, we _will _get out of here in time, _she thought to herself. She quickly went into the master bedroom and grabbed her belongs to change into a pencil skirt and a white blouse. She threw her pajamas into her black bag, pulled out a male's dress shirt and a pair of khakis and set them on the counter in the adjoining bathroom, and hurriedly zipped her bag closed. She dragged the bag on its wheels outside and threw it in the trunk of her red Pontiac.

She rushed back inside, with a knife and the keys to Spencer's handcuffs in hand. She calmed her pace, and then started down the stairs. Spencer tensely sat up, scared of what she might do to him. It had only been an hour since she last came down.

"If you cooperate Spencer, I'll un-cuff you, but _only _if you cooperate," she bargained with him. He looked up with his round eyes and nodded fervently. "Say it out loud," she said.

"I promise I'll cooperate," he recited in a hushed tone. He repeated "I promise," a couple of times, silently to himself, mouthing the words.

"Good," she said. She set down the knife so it was in reach of her, but not Spencer. She took the handcuff key in her right hand and unlocked the cuffs, so Spencer's right hand was free. There was a red ring around his wrist, from him trying to tug away from Kristen. "Stand up," she directed. As told, Spencer got up onto his feet. He kept his hands raised, not daring to make a move.

_This is better,_ Kristen thought. He finally has realized his situation, and is following expectations. She grabbed the knife and then stood up. Spencer almost wanted to laugh at himself for being afraid of her, but it was so serious that he couldn't laugh. _That_, and he'd be afraid of what she'd do if he did in fact laugh.

"We're going upstairs," she stated flatly. He nodded, and a snail pace, he walked over to the stairs, paused at the bottom, and then proceeded up. Kristen walked behind him, keeping the knife leveled at his spine, so if he tried anything at all, it'd be the last thing he'd do.

"Now where?" he asked as they stood at the top of the stairs. She used her left hand and pointed at the door at the opposite end of the large living room/kitchen space.

"Through that door," she said. He nodded, and then started at his slow pace once again. "You don't have to walk so slow you know, it'll take us forever to get there," she said. Spencer didn't say a word, but he did walk at a normal pace. He reached for the doorknob of the door to enter the room, but found the door already open just a crack. He pushed the door in with his left palm and found the neatly made bedroom.

The sheets on the bed were perfectly laid out, seeming like not a single wrinkle was on its surface. A photo stood framed on the nightstand, and the smell of lavender drifted through the air.

"In the bathroom, there's a change of clothes for you. You've got five minutes," she gestured to the other door in the room. She also pointed to her wrist when she mentioned how much time he had, as if pointing to an invisible watch. He strode over to the door and closed it quickly behind himself. He found himself disappointed to find that the door had no lock. There was also no window; just his luck.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was in more of a mess than it had been in before. The dress shirt he wore had dark red on the right sleeve; dried blood. Deciding to get it out of the way, he slid off his clothes and then slipped on the brand new clothing. He found himself wishing he still had his watch on so he'd know how much time he had left.

Using his leftover time, he searched the medical cabinets for a first aid kit. He found a very basic kit in one of the drawers underneath the sink. He ran ice cold water on his right hand, despite the pain he felt when he did so. He then opened the kit awkwardly with his left hand and found a roll of gauge. After applying a salve, he rapidly wound the white gauge around the carving in his hand, and found it feeling slightly better. It now only felt like a numb throbbing, which was something Spencer could bare.

"Time's up!" Kristen shouted. Spencer winced as if being hit again. He gathered his clothing and walked out of the bathroom. He stood in front of her.

"I fixed up my hand. I hope that was alright," he admitted, hoping he didn't make another mistake. Kristen's face looked unchanged.

"No big deal," she shrugged. "Now, we have to get going, come on," she said as she put her left arm around his back. Spencer was slightly unnerved by this gesture. He walked with her outside until they reached her car. "Get in the passenger's seat," she told him. Without argument, he complied. He walked over to the passenger's side. He opened the door and slipped inside the car.

He figured the car was brand new. The interior looked extremely clean, and it smelled new too. He was startled when heard another car pull into the short driveway. His heart pounded, and he begged it hopelessly to stop. The windows were half down, so he could still hear everything that went on outside of the car.

"Excuse me, is this 487 Michaels Street?" Kristen asked in her overly sweet voice. She quickly made her way over to the car that just pulled in. Spencer couldn't hear the response, but knew that it wasn't the correct address when Kristen exclaimed,

"Oh I'm so sorry! We're new to the area! I _told_ my boyfriend that we should have stopped for directions." Another reply from the people in the car behind Spencer. "Alright, thank you!" she exclaimed. Kristen ran to her car, and jumped into the driver's seat.

"That was close, I'm gonna have to keep track of time better," she muttered angrily to herself. She shoved her hand into her skirt pocket, pulled out a pair of car keys and stuck them into the ignition. Her hand shot to the air conditioning and she put it down as far as it'd go. "Ready to go?" she asked Spencer. He pulled on his seatbelt hesitantly, gulped, and then nodded. Kristen sighed, pulled on her seatbelt, and soon they were off, driving away from the house.

Spencer felt so confused. Not so much the situation he found himself in, but Kristen. She could get so angry, but then she could get calm and back to the woman Spencer knew back in his Cal. Tech days. It's like she had multiple personalities, but she had perfect control over which one she was. Was she going to "ruin" him, no matter what he did? A light bulb came on in his brain. Spencer now knew what he had to do to survive; play into her fantasy of her being better than him, and having to get to her good side. Whatever it took.

* * *

**Another fun chapter to write :) I've gotten over my case of writer's block, so I'm thankful for that. I hope you guys had a good weekend, and that you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for alerting, faving, and reviewing! Love you guys :D**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Spencer looked out his window, watching the cars pass by, looking like streaks of color. He didn't want to think about anything right now; his head hurt too much from trying to figure things out.

"You're quiet," Kristen commented. Spencer was snapped back to reality. He looked over at her, and noticed how youthful she looked. She looked almost identical to how she did nine years ago, except for the difference in dress. He wondered if she really was a nice person back then, or if it was all an act.

"I suppose I am," he replied quietly. He looked down at his hands in his lap.

"You're not going to say some seemingly random statistic, or blab on about a meaningless topic?" _Acting time, Reid,_ he thought to himself. He put on a static face and sat up a little straighter.

"I don't feel that I should have to say one at the moment. I think I've done enough of that."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. You know, I… I'd always say statistics, even when they weren't needed so that it'd be a reminder to people of my intelligence, since when people first meet me, they don't take me seriously," he said, purposely putting guilt into his voice.

"Really?" Kristen asked sincerely. Either she was a good faker, or Spencer had a pretty good acting ability. Spencer looked over at her face again. He was a good actor, he decided. Her facial feature all pointed to the theory that she was being truthful with her reaction. It looked like her brain was working on overdrive, deciding on whether or not to believe him.

"People don't think I'm as intelligent as I really am," she muttered.

"Why would they think you're not as smart as you actually are? You're more intelligent than I am," he said, the lies so easily sliding off his tongue. It scared him how easy he was able to lie to her, something he'd never be able to do with his team.

"You're- I mean… you really think so?" she said, her face lifting ever so slightly.

"Definitely. I would have never been able to come up with this plan. You're smart enough to know how to get away from authorities, and to keep them from getting you. Kristen, you killed eight people, and on top of that, you took me, a federal agent, and you didn't leave a trace," he explained, adding admiration to his words. He was really playing into her fantasy now, and he knew it.

"I killed _ten_ people, Spencer."

"Ten?" he asked.

"At the hotel. I killed the man that had the adjoining room with me. I also killed Agent Prentiss before taking you," she lied slickly, saying it as if she were talking about what she did for the weekend.

"What?" he exclaimed in horror, finally losing his poker face.

"I waited for her to get back into her room before I ended her life. Don't worry, she didn't suffer. Like you mentioned to Agent Hotchner, I had to kill two more people for the message at hand to be complete," Spencer's eyes stung. Emily had just came back, and things between them were finally patched up. Now what? It was his fault she's dead.

Kristen took a quick glance at Spencer and noticed his reddened eyes staring ahead at the road, and she even registered the tear that slid down his cheek.

"Don't tell me you're getting upset over her death! She lied to you last year, and so did Jennifer and Agent Hotchner. She left you and your team!"

"I forgave her. I understood why she had to leave. Yes, I did feel betrayed, at first anyway, but I understood after time," he said coldly, his voice broken.

"Be glad I killed her and not your beloved friend Derek. Perhaps I could have killed Agent Hotchner, or even David Rossi. The only one that wouldn't have been considered is Jennifer. I suppose I would've hit a bigger nerve if I had though," she grinned at the thought of her words. That was definitely true. Spencer didn't even want to imagine what things would be like without JJ. He didn't want to imagine anyone from his team gone; it was too painful a thought.

He put his head into his cold hands. He was so tired. To be more specific, his mind was tired. He'd worked on hundreds of cases in the past nine years, and never had he felt this exhausted. His brain was working overtime to just be able to think simple thoughts. He found it impossible to bring his mind to think about much else other than his situation, meaning he couldn't piece together a profile.

A profile would no doubt help him right now to calculate his future actions accordingly, and ultimately, it'd save his life. Unfortunately, his brain didn't want to cooperate, and left him dumbstruck, and without much of a game plan.

He decided that he should just figure out where they were headed, and maybe that could help Spencer figure some things out for himself.

His head snapped up when the sound of classical music suddenly filled his ears. He turned his head towards Kristen to soon see her hand retreating from the car's built-in CD player. Kristen's face relaxed ever so slightly.

"I didn't know you were into Mozart," Spencer commented quietly.

"You didn't?"

"You never told me. Now that I think about it, you never… you never really told me much of anything; anything about yourself, your interests, your thoughts; none of it. I wish that you would have," he spoke truthfully. If she'd open up to him long ago, maybe this entire situation could have been prevented.

Kristen wasn't sure what to think. _On one side, he might be tricking me. On the other… he sincerely means what he said. If that is in fact the case, he might only have wished it because of what's happening now. But what if… what if he truly and deeply means it?_ She thought to herself and pondered the question. She decided after a while that it was just another trick of his to make her seem unintelligent.

* * *

**Woo! Another chapter done! Not the best I've written, but I can't say it was a terrible one. I full heartedly apologize for the short length once again; I believe that my mind hates me, and is trying to make my chapters as horrible as it can. I will fight this, however, and try writing great chapters for you guys. Thank you all for your support! I definitely appreciate it!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

The team regretfully sat in the station all night with no new information, aside from the certainty that Kristen was confident, and wasn't afraid of the team.

"We're going to need to dig into every aspect of her life. Anything can help us right now," Hotch directed sternly. He grabbed a few pieces of paper from the table and began looking them over. The other team members followed suit.

"Date of birth was October 31st, 1979. She was born here in Milwaukee. She grew up here in the city, graduated valedictorian of her class. It looks like she grew up with her parents and had a younger brother," Rossi stated, reading off a sheet of paper.

"About her family, it looks like the father caught Kristen's wife and another man in the master bedroom of the house, and ended up going of the deep end. He beat the man to death with his hands, and then strangled his wife. After that, he went and killed his son, who was only eleven at the time, with a kitchen knife. He was found the next day in his house, sitting on the couch. He said that he "only did what he had to do," JJ added. "That was back in 2000, meaning she was only 19."

"You guys figure out where she's taking him?" Emily asked. Everyone looked up at the sound of Emily's voice. She stood in the middle of the entrance way of the room. Her face was masked with concern, her hands hanging down at her sides. Her hair looked as if it were quickly brushed through with someone's fingers.

"Prentiss, why are you here? You should still be at the hospital," Hotch said.

"They cleared me to leave, although they did say I could stay the night if I didn't feel well. I would have had one of you guys pick me up, but then I remember JJ calling and telling me you guys were at another crime scene. I figured having a cab take me here would be easier. What can I do to help, Hotch?" she replied. Hotch ran his fingers through his short black hair.

"We're trying to learn all we can on Kristen. It could help us figure out where she's headed," Hotch said after time. Emily nodded and sat down next to Morgan, looking over the paper he held in his hand.

"So what do we know?" she asked.

"She and Reid went to Cal. Tech, meaning they probably knew each other. She's not going to go anywhere that even has a slight connection to her, so she won't be going to her home in Nevada, her family's home her in Milwaukee, or a dorm she might have stayed in during her college days," Morgan informed.

"I think she got her charming personality from her wonderful father," Rossi said with sarcasm. "He killed Kristen's mother and younger brother back in 2000." Emily processed what information she had received so far. She turned her head back to the paper.

"Wait a minute; it says that she's unemployed. How would she be able to afford paying the bills? Not to mention buying a new red G8 Pontiac," Emily said.

"She makes a deposit every month of 700 dollars. Where she's getting the money from, I'm not sure," JJ said.

"Rich boyfriend?" Morgan suggested.

"Definitely a possibility. What else do we have?" Hotch asked. The team all looked down to their papers in search of information.

"In college she worked at a restaurant as a waitress in order to pay off college loans," JJ said. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit in frustration. There wasn't a whole lot to go off on.

"It doesn't look like she has a criminal record," Morgan commented dully. "There's not much else that we can get from what information we have here with us, Hotch."

"I say we have Garcia run that boyfriend theory we have," Emily said. Hotch instantly got Garcia on the line.

"Yes, my doves?" she asked.

"Garcia, can you pull up phone records of Kristen for us?" Rossi questions.

"Of course. What are we looking for?"

"Look for the most common number called."

"She's only called two numbers. Two phone calls in total. Already looking up who she's been calling. One's a disposable phone, no name on file, but the other number belongs to a Keith Parker. Each phone call lasted around five minutes, and both were made quite recently."

"How recent?" Hotch asked.

"Last week Monday and Friday," Garcia answered quickly.

"Get everything you can on him; criminal records, employment records; everything," Hotch ordered.

"Getting everything that's on file and… faxing it over to the station right…now," Garcia said. JJ ran out of the room to grab the faxed-over files.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Garcia asked.

"That's all for now. Thank you Penelope," Morgan said.

"Yeah," Garcia tiredly sighed before she ended the call.

"At least we're closer than we were before," Emily stated. JJ soon came back into the room.

"Definitely a concern for us," she said quietly. Her face had paled a shade or two.

"Why?" Morgan asked with concern.

"Keith's a pharmacist, and the company he works for… supplies medication to the Bennington Sanitarium. That's where Reid's mom is institutionalized," she said in a whisper.

"Damn!" Morgan hissed, his hand curling into a fist.

"Morgan, calm down," Hotch warned.

"Hotch, Reid told me that his mom's medication isn't working anymore, and that she's getting unhealthier. This Keith guy must have switched her medication. She even screamed during one of her fits that Reid was in trouble and that "a mother knows!" he shouted, unable to keep his temper down. Everyone had a look of shock.

"We need to get over there. Now."

* * *

**Dun dun dun! Sorry for late-ish upload. I was helping set up my pool today. This heat (here in America) is seriously intense! Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter :) Thanks for reading, reviewing, alerting and what not! For my fans from the USA, Happy 4****th**** of July!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

It was about six in the evening before Kristen and Spencer stopped. Kristen filled up her gas tank at a pay-at-the-pump station, so that she could keep Spencer in her sight. They then drove for another hour until they pulled onto a dead end road; Spencer was willing to wager it was _at least_ a mile long.

The house at the end of the road was simplistic, and it looked like no one had been here for a while, judging from the house's condition. The greying paint on the siding was peeling at spots, a couple shingles were missing from the roof, and the windows looked as if they hadn't been in years.

Near the house was a shed, which sadly was better kept than the house. Actually, it looked relatively new, about two or three years old.

"Stay in here," Kristen ordered Spencer as she opened her car door. Spencer watched Kristen as she walked to the trunk of the car. She hauled her large, black travel bag out of the trunk, and then let the lid drop closed.

Spencer turned his head around to face the windshield when she started walking his way, so it's not surprising that he was startled when Kristen swung his door wide open and grabbed him by the arm. She yanked him out of the car, Spencer stumbled slightly on his feet. Kristen grabbed his right arm and worked quickly to snap on the pair of metal handcuffs she had. Spencer figured that those were his handcuffs, and that they were just another item of his that's been used against him one time or another.

"This way," Kristen muttered as she pulled him towards the shed with a quickened pace. Spencer found it difficult to keep up with her, but it's not like he had a choice, now did he? Spencer found himself wishing that the shed had been as nice as it looked on the outside. Inside, it was a garden-type shed, and everything covered in a nice, thick layer of dust. He could see specks of dust and pollen swirling in the air. Both he and Kristen coughed when they stepped in the shed.

Kristen pushed Spencer down to his knees next to a heavy, metal work desk, and with one quick movement, she linked the handcuffs to one of the legs.

"We're going to be here for a couple of days. The man that lives here is off visiting some family of his. Mother had some sort of a medical emergency; I didn't really look at specifics," Kristen said with her arms folded over her chest. She leaned against a dusty wall and glared down at her captive.

"Why are you telling me this?" Spencer asked.

"Just thought that you should know," she shrugged. " You'll be in here the entire time, by the way." Spencer nodded before he closed his eyes in exhaustion, it'd been over 24 hours since he'd gotten any sort of rest, even if said rest was caused by a Taser. If not for that bit of unconsciousness, he'd have been up for almost 72 hours. Morgan certainly wasn't kidding when he said Spencer was rest deprived.

Kristen studied his tired face, and almost felt a pang of guilt. _Almost._ She noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and realized he never had them when she knew him. Well, he _did_ have dark circles under his eyes, but they were never this bad. A sigh escaped her mouth, and she let her arms drop to her sides.

"Get some rest, Spencer. You look like hell," Kristen remarked as she walked to leave. She paused for a minute at the doorway, considering something, but she quickly shook off the thought and left the shed, locking the door behind her.

Spencer had been glad that there was a tiny window that let the setting sun's light shine through. He rotated his head and let his eyes scan over the interior of the shed, looking for something, anything that could help him. Nothing useful was in the space, unless if you can somehow use old planting pots and fertilized soil to help you escape a woman that was bent on some sort of revenge.

Dust began filling his lungs, so he couldn't help but let out a coughing fit to clear out his airway. Spencer couldn't believe how bleak this situation was, or at least how it seemed to him. It seemed like nothing good was going to happen, and he had a fear his team wasn't getting anywhere closer to finding him. Every mile he'd gone that day made him feel further and further away from his home and his freedom.

* * *

Kristen waited a minute before entering the old home. She was glad that first impressions weren't always right. The house, on the inside anyway, was very neat and clean, although there were a few things that looked out of place, like a couple of magazines scattered on the couch in the living room, and a few dirtied dishes in the kitchen sink.

Kristen found the bedroom and set her bag onto the bed. She speedily zipped open the bag and grabbed out her pajamas once again. With a towel she found messily folded on the dark dresser in the bedroom, she took a long, warm shower, letting the water and soap clean her body.

Now refreshed, she cleared off the couch by gathering the magazines and tossing them onto the coffee table nearby. In her hands she had a journal and a pencil. Once curled up into a comfortable spot, she began writing of her success, and how she planned on eluding Spencer's team. Of course, she had no idea how wrong she was when she said nothing could go wrong. She was unaware that right at this very moment, the man she "dated" was being arrested by a few agents from Spencer's team, each one of them angry with a vengeance.

* * *

**Tada! Next chapter is out :D This was kinda fun to write, even though it was kind of short. I already went swimming this morning, even though the water was ice cold. It's just so hot where I live that I don't care how cold the water is, as long as I don't roast under the sun ^^' Where I am, it's supposed to be 110 degrees (Fahrenheit) with the heat index. Talk about hot!**

**Enough about the weather, and back to the story. Thank you guys for everything, like always. You guys are so nice, and without you guys, this story wouldn't be alive :) So cheesy, but it's true you know 3 I'll be back with another chapter soon :) Bye guys!**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Morgan sat in one of the Las Vegas Police Station's interrogation rooms. Meanwhile, Rossi was on the other side of the one-way glass, ready to run in if either of the men's tempers blew a fuse.

In the chilled room, Morgan looked Keith Parker in the eyes. Morgan's blood was boiling underneath his skin. Usually Morgan was good at keeping calm, but if an UnSub _dared _to harm one of his own, it was personal. What made the situation more infuriating for him was the fact that Keith sat with a blank face, and he hadn't said a word, not even when Morgan slammed him to the ground as he tried to run away from Morgan and Rossi.

"Along with intent to kill, I can also arrest you for obstruction of investigation, so you better start talking," Morgan threatened coldly. Keith simple shrugged his shoulders, and continued giving Morgan full eye contact. "You know Kristen is going to be in a whole mess of trouble when we catch her."

"She won't get caught. She's smarter than you bastards," he said plainly with an expression of boredom.

"You willing to bet on that? She murdered nine people, assaulted a federal agent, and kidnapped another. Depending on where she gets arrested will determine if she gets the death penalty or not, you know." For the first time in an hour, Keith looked somewhere other than Morgan's eyes. That affected him.

"She won't die at the hand of you agents," Keith murmured. Morgan studied Keith's facial features, looking for emotions. There they were; fear and worry. Morgan sighed, finally knowing how to get information.

"Tell you what? I'll make sure she gets doesn't get the death penalty, but only if you tell us what we need to know," Morgan bargained. "That means you get to visit her in prison whenever it's allowed, and once you get released from your sentence." Keith thought for a moment, his eyebrows' knitting together.

"I want it in writing; a contract if you will." Morgan nodded. He stood up from the metal chair and walked out the door. Halfway down the hallway, he found Rossi standing, a notepad and a black pen in his right hand. He held it out in front of him, and waited until Morgan grabbed the two items to retreat his arm.

"We'll get Reid back in no time now. Stay relaxed," Rossi said.

"I know. I just wish I knew what she was doing to him," Morgan grumbled.

"Maybe you'll find out," Rossi said, gesturing to Keith. Morgan exhaled deeply as he back down the hall. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. He came back into the interrogation room and Keith looked up at him.

"Write down our little agreement, and then I'll sign," Keith said. "One more thing; Kristen doesn't hear a word about this," he added.

"Sure," Morgan replied. Whatever it took. He quickly wrote down a contract and then slid the pad and pen to Keith. Keith studied the quickly written words on the paper, and after a minute or so, as if finally convinced, he signed the sheet of paper, with a look of worry washed over his face.

"Alright, we made a contract. Tell me everything you know; what she's doing to him, where she is right now, you get the drill," Morgan explained. Keith swallowed before he started.

"I don't know what Kristen's doing with that guy, all I know is that she said she was going to 'make sure that he got what he deserved,' whatever that means. As for where she is, I kind of don't know either. She said she was going to stay in houses that were empty, like when someone is away on a vacation or is attending a business trip; stuff like that.

"I do know that she's headed to an old apartment complex that's a couple of blocks from my place. The complex is going to be torn down to make way for a new building," Keith explained.

"When is she going to get there?" Morgan questioned.

"I don't know… She never told me. She said it was in case something like," he tapped the table top with his hands, "this happened," he said, referring to being arrested. Morgan rubbed his head. Another foot forward, but it seemed like they weren't getting anywhere. There was another moment of silence before anyone spoke.

"Why did she have you swap out Diana Reid's medication?" Morgan asked angrily.

"You expect me to know that?" Keith asked.

"Yeah, I do," Morgan answered.

"I… She never said specifics, but if you ask me, that was probably part of whatever that guy deserved. I don't know how that'd affect him though. Must be family or something." Morgan wanted the punch the man, though he hadn't quite yet pinpointed a reason why yet.

"What did you swap her meds with?"

"Now _that_, I think I'll keep to myself," Keith replied, looking calmer. Morgan had to use every ounce of will power he had in him to keep from smashing the man's face in.

"We had a deal, Parker. You're going to tell me everything I need to know, otherwise I can't guarantee your girlfriend's fate of life in prison."

"Look, it doesn't matter what I was giving her does it? She's gonna be fine now, thanks to you two FBI agents."

"It matters to me," Morgan snapped. Keith laughed and shook his head.

"Seems like you care about this guy, whoever he is. Who is he anyway?"

"You don't need to know."

"If you tell me what I want to know, I'll do likewise," Keith offered with a grin. "You first." Morgan clenched his fists in his lap.

"His name is Dr. Spencer Reid, and he's one of my team members. We've been working together since 2005. You obviously don't know what that man has been through in the past seven years, 'cause if you did, you wouldn't have agreed to what Kristen wanted you to do," Morgan explained furiously. Keith had a look of surprise on his face. He looked down at the table in regret, truly believing Morgan's word. The tone in the agent's voice gave away the fact that he cared about Spencer. _The team must be a family, _Keith thought.

"The mixture I gave Diana was a water base with a very small amount of belladonna, also known as atropine*. If I'd have been able to poison her for another week or so, she'd be dead," Keith answered. In a flash, Morgan stood up and was about to punch the man, but he stopped mid-swing. Morgan looked down at the criminal with flames in his eyes. He sighed in frustration as he dropped his fist to his side.

"It's not worth it," he muttered to himself before he stormed from the room, angrier than he had been before.

* * *

**There! Next chapter: complete :D This was another fun chapter to write. Announcement for regular readers: there might not be any uploads next week :'( I've got family coming over, so there's going to be virtually no time for me to write, unfortunately. I'll certainly try uploading when I can, that's a promise!**

**I hope you guys had fun reading! If you've got ideas, or just regular reviews, let me know! I love reading your feedback! I do hope you have a great weekend, and next week if I find myself unable to upload. Thanks for everything guys!**

(*Atropine is a chemical that affects the receptors which are common to nerves which control pupil dilatation, salivation, heartbeat, urination, and blood flow to the skin; it also causes psychosis.)


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Kristen woke up the next morning to the sound of pounding rain on the metal roof. She stretched her arms up above her head, ready for the day to begin. She stepped out of the large bed of the bedroom and onto the carpeted floor. She made her way to her travel bag, and kneeled before it.

She zipped open the largest compartment and pulled out her new laptop. She'd only used it three times since she bought it two weeks ago. She grabbed the laptop and its power cords, and took both of them into the living room. She plugged the laptop in, and pulled it onto her lap.

Kristen was thankful that she had learned how to break through firewalls, and other useful hacking tips. She hacked into the L.V.P.D. database with ease. She was making sure everything was how it should be. The arrest records were what she checked first. She looked as far back as last week. Keith Parker's name was nowhere to be found.

She then checked the F.B.I.'s database, though this time she made sure to get into the files much more carefully and made sure to cover her tracks. She could scarcely breathe when her eyes came across Keith's name. He was caught. They've got him, and unfortunately Keith will give in to any good offer they give him. She was fortunate that she didn't give him specifics.

She signed out of the computer and instantly shut it off. She threw it off her lap and onto the couch next to where she sat. Kristen stood up and let out a groan. She screwed up; she should have made more phone calls; it was the only way it would have been possible for the F.B.I. to find Keith. She felt her blood boil.

She went into the kitchen, bent on finding something. She smashed the porcelain plates that were laid out on the counter near the sink. She punched a hole in the wall, fury behind the hit. She then cleared her mind enough to remember why she was in this situation: Spencer Reid. Any sympathy or inhibitions she may have towards him had disappeared in that moment. This was his entire fault. She knew what she had to do, and how to go about doing it.

She grabbed something out of her bag and then ran out the front door, not bothering to close the door behind her. She let the pouring rain soak through her clothing; she didn't care. She streamlined for the shed.

With great force she swung open the door after roughly unlocking it. Spencer's eyes snapped open as a crack of thunder struck. Kristen was at his side, unlocking his handcuffs. She grabbed him by the shirt, stood him up, turned him around, and pushed him out of the shed. He just barely put his arms in front of him to break his fall. His forearms became slicked with mud.

He turned onto his back in time to see Kristen's fist flying towards him, but he didn't have time to block the punch, landing on his temple. Spencer felt slightly disoriented. His heart started beating rapidly again. Lighting flashed behind Kristen, giving her an ominous look.

She landed a kick between Spencer's ribs, making him roll. He winced at the sudden, blunt attack. _Defend yourself! _He screamed at himself in his head. He held up his arms to block anything Kristen would throw at him, or kick. She barred her teeth as she pulled out her knife again. She struck down, cutting deeply into Spencer's left forearm. She could feel the blade cut against the bone.

Spencer let out a cry of pain. He grasped his arm and squeezed the cut with his right hand in attempts to stop the bleeding.

"You bastard!" Kristen screamed down at him. She struck down again, this time stabbing him in left shoulder. Spencer shouted, his throat hoarse.

His eyes were wide as Kristen looked at him in the face, rage flaring in her eyes. She twisted the blade in a jerky fashion before pulling it out abruptly. She raised the blade to his neck. His eyes became glassy, tears welled in them. He couldn't move; he was paralyzed in fear.

"Please don't," he begged, his voice cracked. Kristen chuckled as she nicked his skin. It wasn't deep enough to be fatal, but it was enough to draw blood. Spencer winced a bit.

"You know I wouldn't kill you yet," she said coldly. Her face was inches away from Spencer's. "I want to have fun with you. I know what I'm going to do with you now, and trust me; nothing is going to stop me. Your team isn't going to find out enough to save you. I'm telling you right now; I. Will. Break. You. Your mine, Spencer Reid." She grinned down at him. Shivers ran up and down Spencer's spine.

He could feel adrenaline run through him. He tried to kick Kristen away from him, but all it did was pull a laugh from Kristen.

"Ooh, you're going to try and fight me off? You should know that it's a dumb idea to even try and fight me. I've got a knife, and you don't. It's a miracle you got into the FBI," she said as she stomped on his leg; she was certain she heard a crack. His shout of agony helped support this.

"You never passed your marksmen's tests, the physical training, or the obstacle course. I would have been able to pass those tests with ease! Gideon thought you were _special_, so he specifically requested you, and pulled a few strings to get you into the F.B.I. It's because of you that I didn't get that spot at the BAU," she admitted angrily.

"You applied?" Spencer asked in a whisper.

"Yes! What, they never told you? You never found out?" she shouted at him. She stood with the knife at her side.

"You never told me, and no one told me anything." Spencer barely registered Kristen's newly tightened grip on her weapon.

"You should have known! They told me _you_ got the job instead! That you were better! They let me go; set me aside! It was my dream to get that job! You ruined it!" She stomped her heel into Spencer's stab wound. He took his long fingers and wrapped them around her ankle, trying to pull her foot off him.

"Get off me!" she screamed as she shook her leg to get him off. His grip remained, and he didn't let go. She finally managed to pull her leg away. Both of the adults noticed the hail starting to fall onto them. She scanned her eyes around the yard.

Kristen soon brought her eyes back to Spencer. She bent down and grabbed him roughly by the hair, pulling him up. She dragged him over to the water pump that was nearby. She found the looped handle; no way would Spencer be able to get away.

She grabbed the handcuffs from her pocket, and she swiftly connected Spencer's left hand to the pump with the cuffs. Instinctively, he tried to pull his hand out from the cuffs, and even tried to pull the cuff off the handle, even though he knew it was useless.

"One last thing before I go back inside," Kristen said. She pulled out her blade again and lowered it to Spencer's left hand.

"Please don't!" he cried out desperately, shaking his head. She pressed the blade into his left palm, deeper than she had with his right hand. This time she wasn't as precise, but she carved an "S" neatly into his hand. She stood up and looked down at Spencer. He looked so helpless, and she wished this moment could last. Never had she felt in so much control.

She turned on her heel, leaving Spencer out in the storm. Spencer sat there and sobbed, his head falling against his soaked chest. He was in so much pain, fear, and loneliness. Spencer was truly afraid of this woman now. He was helpless against her; there was nothing he could do. He knew it wasn't over yet, but he felt that this battle only proved that he already lost the war.

* * *

**Woo! New chapter! This was probably the most whumpy (?) chapter I've written so far. I hope this satisfied the sadist in all of you guys. This was certainly another fun chapter to write. I feel like a jerk because of what I did to Reid though… Anyway, thank you guys for all the positive feedback! I do hope you guys know that I appreciate it :) Hope you guys liked this chapter, and I'll post when I can. Bye guys!**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The previous day went quickly for Morgan and Rossi, and they soon found themselves in the midst of a new day. Morgan sat in a chair, glancing at the nearby trash can. More specifically, he looked at the crumpled up piece of paper that sat on the top of everything else. Rossi had at first gotten on Morgan's case for tossing the agreement he made with Keith, but after Morgan gave his reasoning, he let it slide.

Morgan didn't get good enough info, so he didn't even consider the "deal" they made. He literally threw it out. There was a bit of info that Keith gave them that helped, but it wasn't a lot to go on. At the moment Rossi was at the Bennington Sanitarium, trying to explain the situation to Diana. She didn't want to believe anything he told her.

"The government lies," she said. "Now, I want to see Spencer."

"Mrs. Reid, I told you; he's been abducted. That's why he hasn't been able to write you," Rossi explained harshly. Diana's eyes darted from one side of the room to the other.

"He's fine. I know he..," her voice trailed off. She raised a hand to her mouth to chew on her unkempt nails. Her mind went off to somewhere else. She then said quietly, "He's in danger. He's hurt!" She started rocking in her chair and violently shaking her head. "He's hurt!" she screamed loudly, over and over again.

"Mrs. Reid! You need to stay calm! Spencer needs you to stay calm for him!" he shouted, taking a grip on her shoulders. She stopped at his touch. Rossi looked her in the eye, and she stared back. She started nodding her head.

"You're right," she said. She sat back into her chair, and calmed herself. She started to bite on her nails again. The nearby nurses stood with their mouths gapped open.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Rossi asked.

"Some tea, if you don't mind," she said after a moment. She didn't provide much eye contact. Now Rossi knew where Reid got it from.

"Not at all," Rossi said as he stood up. He walked over to the other side of the room, only to be approached by one of the male nurses.

"Incredible," the nurse said to Rossi.

"What's incredible?" Rossi asked.

"You got her to settle down, without any medication. No one's ever been able to calm her down that way!" the nurse marveled.

"Have you ever told her why she needed to calm down?" Rossi asked. The nurse stood in thought.

"No," he admitted.

"Then there's your problem," Rossi concluded before walking out of the room.

* * *

Meanwhile in Milwaukee, Hotch, JJ, and Emily sat in wait for any developments or information. JJ had fallen asleep in a chair a couple of hours ago. Her head rested on top of her shoulder. Emily sat at the table, drumming her finger tips on the surface. She stared at her chewed fingernails; the result of her only nervous habit.

In the middle of the quiet, one of the phones rang from the bullpen. A tired night officer picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he asked. He sat straighter in his seat, and he felt more alert. He grabbed a sticky note and began writing down an address. "You sure... Alright, ok… thank you," he said before hanging up. He walked over to the F.B.I. agents in the other part of the room.

"What is it?" Hotch asked.

"A couple got home from a short vacation yesterday. They went down into their basement and found some blood, and an F.B.I. agent's badge. The couple said they hadn't touched anything and they wanted someone to come to their home to collect evidence. The woman sounded kinda spooked," the officer explained. He handed the sticky note to the agent. "There's the address of the couple."

"Alright, thank you," Hotch said. The officer handed the note to Hotch, and then he went back to his desk. Hotch gently shook JJ's shoulder.

"Hmm?" she said groggily. Her eyes were partially closed, and her usually neat hair was slightly frizzed.

"Come on, we have to get over to a house. Reid was there," he explained sternly. Instantly JJ sat up, and she was wide awake.

"Is he alright?" she asked with concern.

"I don't know. He was there, meaning his not there anymore," Hotch said with annoyance.

"How is this going to get us closer to finding him?" Emily asked while she stood up.

"It probably won't. At least we can get an idea of what she's done to Reid." Emily nodded slowly. Hotch led the way to a government issued vehicle that sat outside the station. The three agents piled in and drove off to their destination.

It took about fifteen minutes to arrive at the house. The lights were on in the house of the couple, and Emily could even see the couple sitting on their living room couch. They must have not heard the vehicle, because they didn't move when the SUV pulled into the driveway.

Hotch, Emily, and JJ walked to the door, all wearing a mask of calm, even if inside they were feeling quite the opposite. Hotch stood at the front, so it only made sense that he was the one to knock on the door.

A middle aged man swung the door open.

"That was fast," he said tiredly, with shock mixed into his tone.

"F.B.I. May we come in?" Hotch asked. The man in the doorway nodded, stepping slightly to the side.

"That is why we called the police." The three stepped inside the home, greeted by the cool air conditioning. The man's wife stood up from the couch and walked towards the agents.

"I can take you down to the basement," the woman said. Her left hand clutched her right arm. JJ and Emily nodded, letting the woman lead them. The walked down a set of wooden stairs into a cool basement. Boxes were stacked around the space. JJ's eyes landed on the floor next to one of the support poles. On the cement was a puddle of dried blood. JJ froze in her spot.

Emily placed a hand on JJ's shoulder, causing her to slightly jump.

"You alright?" Emily asked. JJ subtly nodded her head.

"Here are the credentials," the woman said, gesturing to a box. Emily patted JJ's shoulder before going over to the cardboard box. Emily picked up the credentials, and looked down at the image of the 22 year old version of Spencer. Memories of him flooded into Emily's mind, but she desperately pushed them away. She needed to keep a clear head.

"Did you find anything else in your home that didn't belong, ma'am?" Emily asked. The woman shook her head in response.

"Just that blood and the credentials. May I ask what's going on?" Emily hesitated to answer for a moment.

"One of our agents was taken by a woman that he knew. We believe he was being held here," Emily finally informed. The woman ran her hand in her short hair.

"Oh god," she whispered.

"What is it?"

"We saw her when we got back. She said she was looking for a house I think… it was 487 Michael Street that she was looking for. Can I see the agent?" Emily showed the woman the picture of Reid, holding her breath.

"That's him. He looks a bit different now; I'm guessing that's an older photo, but I saw him. He was sitting in the passenger's seat, and when I got a look at his face he looked a bit spooked. God, I wish I knew..," the woman said with regret.

"It's alright ma'am. Is it alright if I ask you one last question?"

"Of course."

"Was she driving a red G8 Pontiac?"

"I believe so. It looked brand new," the woman answered certainly.

"Thank for your help," Emily said.

"I'll be upstairs with my husband if you need anything else," the woman said as she made her way to the stairs. Within a few moments, she was gone. Emily turned around to see JJ kneeling near the support pole. Emily slowly knelt down next to her.

"She's using Spence's cuffs… You can see the bare metal from the cuff chipping the paint off," JJ said quietly. It seemed like JJ was there, but wasn't.

"JJ, he's going to be alright. We're going to find him; we're the best chance he's got," Emily assured. JJ looked up, and then let out a sigh.

"Why is it always him?" she asked. Emily didn't respond, for she didn't know the answer.

* * *

**Done! I think I'm getting closer to the end of the story. Well, actually, regardless of how far into the story I am, I suppose I'll always get closer to the conclusion, every time I post a new chapter. I'm not sure how many chapters it will take, but I think that this story is nearing the end. I don't want to rush things, but I don't want to let the story drag on. Suggestions from you guys would be a great help! After all, it is you guys that are reading this, so I don't want to write anything you won't enjoy.**

**Enough on that, thanks for everything, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll post when I can :) Bye guys!**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

The storm had passed a couple hours ago, and so did most of the pain that flooded throughout Spencer's body. It had resided to a dull, throbbing numbness. Spencer felt like going to sleep; he was exhausted, but he kept his eyes open and willed himself to stay awake.

He wasn't sure what Kristen was up to, but all he knew was that she wasn't around him, and for that, he was grateful. He hated the feeling of helplessness that she put on him. He knew that feeling all too well, but it didn't mean he liked it any better. He figured that his best chance of staying alive and well was making a profile, and using that to his advantage. Unfortunately, his brain wanted to work against him. It didn't allow him to tap into his endless databases of information he kept stored in his mind, and it certainly didn't want to think clearly. Any thoughts he was able to piece together were fogged up.

Spencer let out a sigh of exhaustion before turning his head to look at the one-story house that Kristen was staying in. He couldn't see her through the front window, but he did get a good look at the living room. He then turned his attention back to the handcuff that annoyingly chaffed his left wrist. He yanked on the cuff, hoping that it'd weaken, even if he knew the chances of that were highly unlikely. Even near impossible. The team was issued top grade cuffs, least likely to have any defects that could loosen the locking mechanism.

He gave up when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder shoot through his nerves. The sound of a slamming door jolted Spencer. It took all of his will power to keep his eyes trained in front of himself, and away from Kristen. He could hear the sound of feet stepping on the damp grass drawing near, and instinct he tightened all of the muscles of his body, awakening his injuries from their dull state.

"I'm leaving for a little while; topping off the tank, getting some food. Any requests?" Kristen said with a twisted smile. She stood next to Spencer's right side, inches away from him. Spencer shook his head in response. Kristen scoffed. "Suit yourself." Turning around, Kristen stepped on Spencer's hand, leaving him wincing.

He didn't watch as Kristen made her way to her car. He kept his eyes focused on the blades of grass that surrounded him, all covered with tiny droplets of rain. He waited until he could hear Kristen's car leave before moving. Now was probably the only time he'd be safe for a while. Spencer contemplated getting some rest, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to wake up before Kristen would get back.

He closed his eyes, but he worked his brain to keep himself conscious. He began paging through memories. He decided on only looking at positive memories, a majority of them involving the team. He wanted to laugh at all of the times that Morgan had scared him, and how he secretly thought it was funny, even though he never admitted it on the outside. A small grin teased his lips as he reminisced on him and Morgan's prank war; Morgan's reaction to Reid's big prank would never fade from his memory.

He next thought of good times he had with JJ. He remembered when they used to occasionally have movie nights, and how she'd throw pieces of popcorn at him, mainly at his head. Several times Spencer had revolted, turning the movie night into a popcorn fight between the two of them. One time they were sitting on her couch, watching a stereotypical horror movie. JJ had a large bowl filled with popcorn resting in her lap, and at a specific part, JJ got so spooked that she literally jumped, and popcorn flew out everywhere. Spencer could help but begin laughing, although he eventually helped her calm down, pulling her into a sideways hug.

Next Emily came to his mind. He hadn't interacted much with Emily outside of work, though, on a few occasions they'd go to a play, or even just play a couple of games of chess at Emily's house. Spencer didn't want to think of her much more, scared that the tears that threatened to leak would escape his closed eyes.

There wasn't much to remember about Hotch, although when thinking of him, the multiple times the team played poker on the plane certainly came to mind. There was also one day when the whole team had a day off, so Hotch hosted a cookout and had the entire team come. Reid refused to swim in the pool that sat in the backyard; Morgan had teased for a week afterward and said that Reid "couldn't swim." Reid settled to performing slight-of-hand magic tricks for Jack and his one friend.

Spencer then remembered all of his times with Penelope. A lot of times, they'd go to her apartment and play board games. One of Garcia's favorites was Clue, so that was always at the top of the list of games to play. He also recalled the one time that she let him come and see her perform for a local play. She was an amazing actress, to say the least.

The last person he thought of in particular was Gideon. Their countless games of chess on the plane certainly came to mind. He also remembered first meeting Gideon. That was back in 2003 It was strange how the mentor so easily took a liking to him. The more time Spencer spent with Gideon over the years, the more of a father figure he became to him. Unfortunately, like his biological father, he left him.

Spencer slowly opened his eyes, and noticed that the clouds were beginning to break apart, letting sunlight beam down in streaks of yellow. From the best of his abilities, he was willing to wager that it was sometime in the afternoon, around three o'clock or so. He felt something cold and metallic brush against the fingertips of his right hand.

Spencer ran his hand across the grass, and soon found the small object. He raised it up to his eyes, and couldn't help but laugh with relief. It was a bobby pin. The pin must have fallen out of Kristen's hair when she came by him before she left. He instantly went to work to get the tip of the bobby pin off. Next he bent the end twice to make a sort of sharp "S" shape. He turned his torso and brought his "key" to the lock of his cuff. He put the pin into the lock, and twisted it around. He couldn't breathe when he heard the ever familiar click of the cuff unlocking. He was finally free.

* * *

**Yay! Way to go Reid! I'm quite proud of my G-man right now :D I'm terribly sorry for this chapter's short length, but I will do my best to make up for it in the next couple of chapters. Things aren't quite exactly over yet. "How so?" you may ask? You'll just have to see!**

**The power went out for almost an hour when I first started typing, and I was about half way done with this chapter. Unfortunately , I lost everything I typed, so I had to start all over D: I got it done nonetheless! Just a warning, I might not be able to upload tomorrow; I've got family coming over, so I might not have time ^^' Anyway, thank you guys for reading, and everything else that you guys do :) Bye guys, I'll be back with another chapter real soon!**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

As soon as he took the cuff of his left wrist, Spencer started running. Running as fast as his legs would allow. He ignored his left leg, screaming at him in pain. He was thankful that he was able to run on it at all, even if it did feel like living hell. He ran on the gravel driveway; a much easier surface to run on, opposed to the uneven terrain of the woods.

This road seemed to go forever, and to Spencer, it felt as if he wasn't getting any closer to safety. He hated the little dips and raises in the road, and it only made getting away more difficult. The tall trees that towered around created a canopy of green, blocking out most of the sun's rays. In the trees' leaves, cicadas sing in unison, sounding like one, large hiss. Besides the bugs and his one breathing, Spencer couldn't hear a thing.

Spencer could feel the sweat on the back of his neck and on his forehead as he ran. _I wish it weren't so oppressively hot out here, _Spencer thought miserably to himself, and also associated his clothing with his heat. His breath came out in short pants; the inside of his mouth was dry like a desert. As much as he would have loved to rest underneath a tree and take break, he pressed forward, neglecting his body's wants.

On one step he took, he felt his foot drop into a shallow pot hole, something he wasn't expecting, and because of it he tripped and fell down to the gravel. He could feel some of the larger rocks imprint on his skin, and felt the more fine stones scrape his arms and legs.

"Might as well rest for a little bit," he figured as he brought himself to a sitting position. He shook his head and muttered under his breath, "I have to be more observant, don't I?" He turned his head and looked at his surroundings. There were many trees, but they were all evenly spaced, and were separated by quite a few feet. He also noticed they were all the same trees, probably hemlocks. _A man-made forest, _Spencer thought.

He lowered himself to lie down so he could rest better. He closed his eyes and slowed down his breathing a bit, and found himself in a state of calm. He knew he wouldn't be able to lie there for long, so he didn't make himself too comfortable. He stayed on the ground for a few more minutes before awkwardly standing himself up.

His eyes opened widely when heard the dreaded noise of a car approaching. The only option was what the one he took; hide into the forest. He ran down into the shoulder, and began making his way down the steep slope. He could hear a car come to a stop, and a car door open.

"Spencer!" Kristen screamed with rage at the top of her lungs. Spencer's heart pounded faster. He wove between the tall, green hemlocks, desperately getting his left leg to cooperate with him. He could hear Kristen running for him, trailing him. "I'm going to kill you, Spencer!" she shouted with venom dripping from her words.

Spencer stumbled over a fallen branch, and soon made a somersault as he fell to the ground. Just as quick as he fell down, however, he brought himself back to his feet and continued to run. He could definitely hear Kristen get closer; he could even hear her breath, coming out in forced pants. Spencer knew that if she caught up to him, he'd most likely be killed.

He glanced back for a split second, but long enough to see Kristen running closely behind him, seriously pissed off, and a knife gripped in her right hand. Spencer tried bringing himself to a quicker speed, but didn't run much faster than before. He tried running in a zigzag, hoping to wear Kristen out, or shake her off his trail.

Spencer soon felt her tackle him down, and could feel the blade of the knife cut across his right shoulder. He almost couldn't breathe when his body painfully slammed into the forest floor. He rolled onto his back, and was then pinned down by Kristen she raised the blade up to his neck. She glared down at him. Strands of her hair were out of place.

"So, how'd you get out?" she asked, somewhat out of breath.

"You dropped a bobby pin," he answered truthfully. Kristen shook her head and chuckled ruefully.

"I knew I should have cuffed both of your hands," she muttered angrily.

"Then why didn't you? You're smarter than I am, aren't you?" he asked. By the change in her face, he knew he said the wrong thing once again.

"Shut up!" she yelled into his face. She slightly pressed the blade against Spencer's neck, not even hard enough to break through the skin. "I'm going to kill you today, Spencer," she hissed.

"Not like this you aren't," Spencer replied.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" she asked loudly.

"Slitting my throat would be quick and easy. I'd bleed out and be dead within minutes. You want me to suffer, don't you? This… this wouldn't be the best way of going about and do it."

"You got any better ideas?" she asked rudely.

"That part's up to you," Spencer said, his voice kind of shaking. Kristen closed her eyes, groaned, and then abruptly stood up. She grabbed Spencer by the shirt, and pulled him upward.

"Let's go," she said coldly, pushing Spencer ahead of herself. He stumbled ahead, secretly smiling to himself, and breathing a soft sigh of relief. He just bought himself some time, but how much time, he wasn't sure. He was just hoping he bought himself enough.

* * *

**Definitely nearing the end of the story! There will probably be only a couple of chapters left! I quickly want to apologize for not uploading Thursday or Friday. Long story short, I helped my friend with her garage sale, and then I had my grandparents come over. I could go into details, but I figure you guys don't need to read about that. I also want to apologize if I don't upload regularly this week. I'm going to my dad's place, and he's cutting down on the amount of time I can use the internet. Ready to hear this? 5-10 minutes. That's all the time I get. Sucks doesn't it? So yeah, might not be able to upload like I should be able to. That's why I'm uploading this chapter before I leave.**

**I'm also sorry this chapter is short O^O' I typed this while my friend was sleeping so I was pressed for time. I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless! The next chapter will be longer, so look forward to that. Thank you all for everything: reviewing, following, and favoriting :) I'll be back with another chapter whenever I get the time! **


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Hotch, Emily, and JJ sat at the table, waiting for Rossi and Morgan to get back from Las Vegas, with Diana Reid being taken along. Since she refused to get on an airplane, the two agents had to drive her to the rest of the team. It'd be until the next day until they would arrive in Milwaukee.

The hushed air in the Milwaukee District Seven Station was broken by the ringtone of a cellphone. Hotch quickly pulled out his cellphone, pressed talk, along with the speaker phone.

"Yes Garcia?" Hotch asked, knowing who was on the other line without even having to look at the Caller I.D.

"You know how you told me to widen the BOLO for Kristen's Pontiac?" Garcia hinted.

"Yes?"

"Well, we've got a hit, sir," she said quickly.

"Where?" JJ asked, more alert now than she had been in the past 24 hours. Prentiss stared at the phone waiting for an answer.

"Somewhere near La Crosse, WI. I can send you an address, if you'd like."

"Do, but Garcia, how long ago did the BOLO get a hit?" Hotch questioned.

"Not even five minutes ago. It looks like she's driving on a dead end road. I'd be willing to wager that's where she's holding him," Garcia said, her voice getting quiet. Hotch silently thought to himself for a second before replying.

"Send that address, Garcia," he prompted. He waited for her "ok" before hanging up. "We're going to get Reid," Hotch said as he stood up from his seat.

"But Hotch," Emily countered, "La Crosse is on the other side of Wisconsin! It's like… 300 miles away. We'd never get there in time; she could be long gone by the time we get there."

"We could get a helicopter," JJ suggested quietly. "We're going to need back up anyway, might as well have them fly us there. Helicopters can go 320 mph from what I've heard. That means we can get there in less than an hour." Hotch stood as if a statue for a moment, not moving an inch. The female agents could see the gears working in his head. He nodded towards JJ and admitted,

"That's the best chance we've got."

* * *

**30 minutes later**

Hotch, Emily, and JJ sat in the cabin of a large helicopter, along with six tactical team members. Even though there were nine people in the cabin, it was still relatively roomy, and wasn't the least bit uncomfortable. Emily just sat with her hands resting in her lap, her eyes gently closed in thought. Hotch was looking off into space, clearly thinking about something. JJ glanced out the clear window closest to her, watching the trees and buildings down below pass like blurs of color.

"We're coming Spence," she whispered so no one else could hear. Her fingers tugged on the cuff of her shirt as she scanned her eyes over the tactical team, each member holding a large assault weapon. JJ was scared, frightened even. She didn't want to think of all the bad things that could have happened in the past half hour or so. Spence could be dead, for all she knew. JJ knew though, that would be highly unlikely, but unfortunately not impossible either. All she could do for the time being is say a silent prayer and keep her fingers tightly crossed.

A loud harsh voice soon came over the intercom.

"Target location is approaching. Three minutes until landing. Be ready," the voice said loudly so all could hear. They nodded their heads. The FBI team members exchanged looks with each other, most of them being nervousness and worry. Even Hotch's face was slightly contorted into an expression of concern. All three of them, whether the others knew it or not, were worried and scared of what did and what could happen.

Those last three minutes passed slowly at a snail's pace. They were definitely the longest three minutes of their lives, to say the least. They soon landed in a large patch of grass. To the left of the helicopter was a road that went into a thick of trees. Everyone exited the copter, including the pilot. He quickly ran over to Hotch.

"I would have landed closer to the home, but there wasn't enough room to land," he informed. Hotch subtly shook his head.

"That's alright. We'll get to them either way," Hotch replied. He quickly checked over his vest before he followed closely behind the tactical team. All nine people ran on the gravel road, weapons trained in front of them. The trees engulfed all of the team members, and the sound of cicadas filled their ears.

Emily could feel sweat starting to collect on her forehead, forming little beads of moisture. Her eyes flitted to her team members, and then turned her attention back to the road ahead. It slightly dipped and rose from time to time, and there were multiple bends that all of the people had to make.

They all soon came across Kristen's red car, the driver's door still wide open, and the engine was still running. _She's definitely nearby, _the three FBI agents thought. One tactical team member quickly checked the car. He shook his head. _No one in there. _

"Reid must have gotten away," JJ muttered under her breath inaudibly. Emily walked past the car and looked down the small valley that was close by. Her eye was caught by something pale. The others must have seen it two. They all drew closer to the edge of the road, and pointed their weapons downward.

"Kristen Ravera," Hotch shouted harshly. Kristen's eyes widened, and so did Spencer's. The beaten man looked at the group of people that had their weapons directed towards him, or rather Kristen. Kristen placed her blade at Spencer's neck, the sharp edge almost cut into his skin.

"Let him go, Kristen. It's over," Hotch said coolly.

"What? Just so I can get taken in and spend my life in prison? No thanks; I'll pass. I'm going to kill this bastard; something I should have done nine years ago!" she screamed with a grin, looking at her hostage.

"You want him to suffer don't you?" Hotch asked. Kristen's eyes shot up to the older agent.

"I want him dead," she answered, pressing the blade ever-so-slightly against Spencer's neck. Spencer couldn't breathe.

"Let the job kill him; he's a bad luck magnet," Hotch replied.

"It won't happen!" she screamed with rage. "I waited nine _years! _It never happened! I just have to take matters into my own hands!"

"Kristen, you need to stop this," Spencer muttered, racking up all the courage and will in him to stand up to this woman.

"Like you get a say in this," she retorted angrily.

"It's my life we're talking about here. Shouldn't I at least be able to have a say in this?" he asked. He could hear her sigh before answering.

"Look, make it fast."

"Kristen, I know that you hate me; that much is certainly clear. You didn't have to take that hatred to this level, though. Both of us know that your actions were unnecessary. Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Kristen barred her teeth.

"'Why do I hate you?' You ruined my life! You took the job I've always wanted! You think you're so amazing don't you, Spencer? Perfect, amazing, _brilliant_ Spencer Reid! I hate you!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Spencer was surprised that he didn't jump at the sudden statement.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Yeah right."

"I'm being completely honest with you Kristen. What's the point in me lying; I'm going to die either way. Might as well die a truthful man. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you; being rejected for the job you've always wanted. On top of that, have someone that was your friend for years disappear. I really should have kept in touch Kristen; I really should have. If I did, and I knew of an opening, I could have recommended you. It's kind of late for this apology, but I suppose it's better now or never, right?" The knife at his neck came down. Kristen looked at him, and wasn't sure if she should cry or scream.

"Yeah, well, it's too late for apologies. My life is over anyway," she said before abruptly bringing up the knife to his neck again. Spencer felt something warm spray against his head, and could hear the gunshots ringing in his ears. He looked down to see Kristen lying on the forest floor, a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead. Her eyes were closed, as if she knew what was coming. He looked back up to see Hotch, JJ and Emily rushing towards him. JJ and Emily pulled him into a group hug, and Hotch stood close by, a slight grin on his lips. Spencer chuckled with relief as he embraced Emily and JJ. The two of them pulled away, but Emily was surprised by another hug from Spencer. He rested his chin on her shoulder. Softly, he whispered,

"I thought you were dead." He could feel his eyes stinging, so to avoid the tears, he shut his eyes. Emily's heart skipped a beat. She gripped him with both of her arms.

"I almost did," she admitted.

"Thanks," Spencer teased sarcastically, pulling away from the hug, and grinning. Emily couldn't help but smile, a laugh wanting to surface. He was alright, and that was all that mattered to the four of them.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty. Holy. Crap. Spencer is finally safe! Woo! This was another fun chapter to write :) I know what you might be thinking: "Aw man, that's it? Lame." Well, my dear friends, you'd be wrong. I will be uploading one or two more chapters after this, because I hate whenever a kidnapping scenario ends with the abductee being found. Just urks me the wrong way. **

**Anyway, I can't belief it's almost over. I never in a million years thought I'd actually complete a story :D I know that I'm technically not done yet, but I'm close enough to the point that I know I'll finish. In the past, I'd always get bored with a story, and end up never finishing it. I think it's you guys that helped me. Your reviews, favorites, and alerts really served as my motivation when writing this story, and so, I've got to thank you guys for that. **

**Thank you guys for everything; I'll be back with the next chapter soon :) Bye guys!**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty One

Last Chapter! :'(

**2 weeks later**

* * *

Spencer sat in his apartment, reading a book silently at his table; it was cluttered with papers and other books. Ever since he knew what had been going on with his mother, and knowing that things would resemble normalcy once again, he was finally able to put his mind at ease, allowing him to read and think to its original capacity.

He closed the thick book that he had finally finished and set it aside. He then let out a sigh before going to organize the papers on his table, and putting back the other books he recently read. He grabbed the stack of papers he created, and carefully slid them into his messenger bag, double checking to make sure all the papers were there. Next, he put the books that laid on the table back into the large bookshelf that stood in the opposite side of the room. Finally, he ended up laying on his back on the living room couch.

His left hand rested on his chest, while his right hand supported his head. A habit he hadn't been able to stop was looking at his palms. The cuts were a lot better, but they letters would probably be there for the rest of his life. He'd been told to put cream on them once a day, and that it'd help the healing process, and reduce the carvings' noticeability. He put it on before bed, like he'd been directed, but he highly doubted the scars would ever vanish.

He was thankful that the break in his leg wasn't major enough that he even needed crutches. Now, he could walk normally on it once again. He wouldn't be able to run on it for another couple weeks or so, but that was alright with him. A rap of knuckles on his door snapped him out of his thoughts. He made his way to the door, swung the door wide open, and found JJ standing in front of him.

"Wow," she said with disbelief.

"'Wow' what?" he asked defensively. JJ smiled at his response.

"You're wearing something other than a sweater vest and tie," she answered with a chuckle, gesturing to his baggy grey t-shirt, and dark navy sweatpants. His mis-matched socks also caught her eye; a striped green and black sock on his left foot, and a blue and white polka dotted one on the other foot.

"I suppose I'm not," Spencer said as he looked down at the floor, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.

"Is it alright if I come in?" she asked.

"Oh! Not at all," he said while he turned, leaving room for JJ to come through the door. She nodded as she stepped through the doorway, scanning her eyes over the interior of the apartment. "It's not much, but… it's enough to call home," Spencer commented.

"It's nice; I like it," JJ said honestly. She took a seat on the cream colored couch and gazed up at Spencer.

"So, what do you need? Is something wrong?" Spencer asked with concern. JJ shook her head.

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright," she replied. Her fingertips played with the edge of her lavender shirt.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Spencer defended as he sat down next to the blond. JJ let out a sigh, and then started.

"Spence, you were held by someone for three days. You were beaten and hurt. Before you were taken, you weren't yourself. I understand that it was because you were worried about your mom, but still, it would have been better if you would have come to one of us sooner. That worried all of us. Are you sure you're doing better?" she asked, placing a firm hand on his knee. Spencer nodded, giving JJ full eye contact.

"I'm positive. I know I should be more… I don't know… traumatized by this but… I'm not. Sure, at the time I was scared for my life. I almost gave up hope. I shouldn't have, but I guess I can't help that now, can I?" Spencer paused for a moment. "These kinds of things keep happening to me, like Hotch said, I'm a 'bad luck magnet,' so I suppose I'm becoming more resistant to them. It doesn't mean they don't bother me at all, it's just that it makes it easier to deal with, and if something is on my mind, I know where to go," he stated, meanwhile giving JJ a smile of assurance.

"That's good," JJ responded, exhaling a large breath. "Look, I don't think sitting here is a good way to spend our weekend off. What do you feel like doing?"

"I'm… I'm not sure," Spencer answered. He sat in thought, contemplating options.

"I heard there's a play in town. It's based on one of Edgar Allen Poe's poems; _The Raven_."

"Really?" Spencer raised his head. He certainly did like a good play, and being based on one of Edgar Allen Poe's works, it had to be good.

"Yup; you up for seeing it?"

"Is it alright if I change into something a little more… suitable?" Spencer replied quickly, tugging on his bag t-shirt. JJ laughed and nodded in response.

"Make it quick," she teased. Spencer muttered his thanks under his breath before he rushed into his bedroom. Within a matter of minutes, he reappeared, this time wearing a dark brown colored sweater vest, a tan dress shirt underneath, a black tie, and dark dress pants.

"Ready," he said. JJ smiled and held out her left arm. Spencer joked along with over-dramatically bowing before her, and pulling a laugh from his friend, who he also considered to be the sister he never had. Arms hooked together, both Spencer and JJ left the apartment and headed to the play, knowing that things would be like they used to be. As long as the team had each other, things would always work out in the end.

_The End_

* * *

**It's done! Oh. My. Gubler. It's finally over. This certainly raised a question for myself, "What now?" Well, I know that I definitely want to write more Criminal Minds fan fictions; that much is clear. My main problem however is ideas. So, if you've got a story you'd like to see from me, let me know! I'm always up for options. I'll also be updating my profile page, so you guys will know what's coming up, like new stories, updates, etc.**

**I seriously can't thank you guys enough. I know that to you, it may not seem like much to leave a review or add my story to your favorites, but honestly, it means tons to me. Getting notifications in my inbox and reading reviews that you all leave, it makes me think, "Hey, I'm accomplishing something, and I'm doing something for someone out there." So… thank you guys a million times over. Please proceed to give yourselves a round of applause :)**

**If you want to read my works in the future, be sure to add an author alert. I will be back with another story. Only time can tell how long it'll be, though. Bye guys :)**


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